


Discarded

by tmrlan



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brainwashing, But this isn't a redemption fic, Drama, F/M, Gen, Humans are complex and can't be stuck in the neat little boxes with convinient labels, I Believe in Grant Ward, Implied/Referenced Brainwashing, Inhumans (Marvel), POV Grant Ward, People see and believe what they want to, Spies&Secret Agents actually behaving as such, Truth is subjective, because there are no villains and heroes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-05-10 18:23:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 66,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5596210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tmrlan/pseuds/tmrlan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU. Grant Ward was never part of team Bus but some things are meant to be. Having fulfilled his mission of saving John Garrett's life, he is lost without orders, purpose and his master. Who is he without Garrett?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own anything but probably plot :) - if you recognize something, it's probably not mine. All rights belong to their owners.  
> Thank you for reading!

He was supposed to be glad. John was alive and not in danger of dying from failing biomechanics in his body. He finally achieved what they worked for. Then why did he feel hollow?

Grant Ward, former level 7 SHIELD agent, present Hydra agent, Clairvoyant’s right hand man, felt as toy no longer wanted by its master and transferred to a new one. And he was numb enough to not even feel dread at the thought of being in Dr. Whitehall’s command.

Only thought in his head was “why?” They weren’t true believers, John and him, right? Then what was the reason they still were part of Hydra? And why did John leave him? Just like that, as if he…didn’t matter?

No, no, it can’t be. Grant just didn’t understand something. John never did anything without reason. There was reason for his actions now, too. There must be. Grant just needed to figure it out. Or better, to wait. Until John came back for him and gave orders.

Yes, that’s it. He will wait and everything will make sense and have purpose. Again. He will have purpose. He has purpose. He has.

Doesn’t he?

Screams and laughter echoed in hallway and made Grant hurry his steps. It never was good combination in usual situations. Especially in Hydra base.

He opened doors without sound and surveyed sight before him. Two SHIELD agents terrified and covering with male one trying to put himself before female and whole pack of bored Hydra operatives anticipating some fun.

Grant would have wanted to say that he was disgusted at scene but the truth was nowadays he rarely felt anything through emptiness spread in him. And if in past he was proud of his ability to not feel if he didn’t need to, now he would have laughed at younger him.

“Having fun?” he deliberately spoke in pause between different types of noises made by present in the room and watched as Hydra soldiers sprang to attention as children found misbehaving. Only on them it didn’t look endearing.

“Sir!” one of more brave ones (or just stupid) started coming up with explanation for their activity but Grant tuned him out and just put bullet in his head. Rest of predators suddenly turned meek and unassuming and if Grant was capable of it he would have felt pleased. But he stopped finding satisfaction in others’ respect for him. In particular, then he understood it never was respect but simple fear.

“Out.” Mutts flew from the room and Grant turned to two even more terrified agents. By the look of them, probably scientists, early to mid-twenties. Did SHIELD start recruiting in high school now?

“I’m not going to hurt you unless ordered,” Grant raised hands in what he hoped was placating manner and picked file from table. Scientists - and he was right about that as quick glance inside folder confirmed - didn’t look reassured and just cowed in corner even more rattling their handcuffs.

Grant was contemplating locking them up somewhere to get them away from general population of base but then he saw their names. Drs. Fitz and Simmons. The ones wanted by Whitehall himself. Their psychological profiles described them as staunchly loyal to SHIELD which left only one option to their cooperation. One which Whitehall will delight in implementing personally.

He felt sick and in any other case he would have been relieved to actually feel something other than nothing but right now he wasn’t.

He looked at scientists again. So these were famous FitzSimmons, responsible for many discoveries and technological advancements. They didn’t seem that dangerous but looks can be deceiving as Grant have known and used too often.

“Agents Fitz and Simmons?” he didn’t know why he even made it a question then everyone in the room already knew the answer. Maybe some twisted attempt at showing manners?

Scientists’ twin looks of annoyed defiance echoed Grant’s thoughts. He was impressed. Really, he was. They were terrified but still brave. It took different kind of bravery to remain defiant before enemy with no hope of rescue. Grant was beginning to suspect that he much preferred this courage to one full of intimidation and superiority rampant in Hydra.

“Do you know why you were captured alive?”

“Because we’re smarter than your entire science department,” British accent made otherwise insufferably arrogant answer almost pleasant. Not that she was entirely wrong. They _were_ valuable.

“But we’re not going to work for you,” her partner’s voice was more steady than hers but just as full of confidence.

Grant overwhelmed urge to smile. They were little silly, true. But adorable. Not the adult way adorable, more like puppies, but still adorable. He even felt tiniest little bit bad about crushing their spirits.

“You will. Dr. Whitehall can be very persuasive then making people comply,” they didn’t look more afraid as they should be. So Grant continued. “He’ll put you through brainwashing and by the end of it you _will_ comply. The question is how much pain you will go through and how much of your identity will be erased before you will happily carry out his every order.”

 _Now,_ they started to see just what fate awaited them. They looked at each other paler than before and just silently hugged each other. It was so low key that Grant found himself jealous just watching their closeness and strength they derived from simply being together.

How will they look after being put through Faustus Method? Will Whitehall let them stay together and have some vague idea of the bond they shared? All reports and rumors said that these two worked better then put together but who knows what Whitehall will decide. Maybe they will pass each other in corridors and not even recognize the other.

For some reason this thought didn’t set well with Grant and he found himself thinking about doing stupid and dangerous thing. No, scratch that. Suicidal more like. Because depriving Dr. Whitehall of his toys was very bad idea but here he was, wanting to do it, nevertheless.

This out-of-left-field thought shocked Grant. He didn’t want anything for himself in a while, his entire universe spinning around John but…John still didn’t return for him, did he? And Grant never was loyal to Hydra, only to John and if disobeying Whitehall will disappoint John, when he damn sure should have given Grant orders that said so and not leave it to freaking Kaminsky to give him news.

No, don’t think that, John has a plan, he always has a plan…then why is he, Grant, not in it?

This pissed him off so much that he strucked the table, making scientists jump but he paid them no mind. This sudden overemotional state was scaring Grant. He went for months feeling numb and lost without John and now he actually wanted something and couldn’t shut down like he usually did then feeling something uncomfortable.

Uncomfortable? Since then he thought of being mad at John as uncomfortable? Maybe this will reach John and he will finally show up if even to finish him off after Whitehall was through with him. Assuming there will be anything left after dear Herr Doktor’s displeasure.

Grant shivered remembering electrical jolts through his body and Whitehall’s voice promising him that compliance will be rewarded.

He didn’t fully register what he was doing as he pulled his sidearm out again and aimed it at the scientists. They were so paralyzed by fear and confusion that Dr. Fitz stammered:

“W-what a-are y-you do-oing?!”

“Showing you mercy,” Grant aimed his gun little higher, to forehead wanting to make it as painless and quick as possible. “Believe me, you’d wish you were dead after he starts with you.”

“Wait! That’s not mercy!”

“Yes, there’s got to be another way!”

“Please don’t!”

Grant felt disconnected with his body as desperate pleas faded and Thomas’ screams tore through his carefully locked boxes.

He was too afraid to help his brother then. But he’s helping now, these two kids, they’ll be better off dead.

_Are you? Helping them? Or just easing your conscience saying you did what you could?_

Thoughts were unwelcome and unpleasantly had Raina’s voice. Raina, who always made him feel as if his scores in espionage – second only to Romanoff, damn it – were nothing. She saw right through him. And his only consolation was that she was dependant on him to continue protecting her from gaining Whitehall’s attention and just generally covering up her lack of faith in Hydra’s ideals. It was funny but he couldn’t explain why he even bothered. Maybe because she was left behind just as he was.

John didn’t leave him behind, he has reason, he has…

Grant was thrown back in real world just as violently as out of it. Scientists were almost hysterical and involuntarily he lowered his gun. He didn’t know why. Not even once before he hesitated to pull the trigger.

Not true, he couldn’t shoot Buddy.

Buddy was different and John was so disappointed in him. He promised him he would fight that weakness inside him. And here he was, not being able to put two enemy agents out of their misery.

But maybe, maybe there was another way. It was terrifying and John wouldn’t like it…John is not here, is he?

Grant holstered his sidearm and turning left the room not sparing a glance at two captive agents.

Getting two scientists out of Hydra’s grasp wasn’t that hard as Grant imagined. Tipping police off about suspicious track possibly involved in drug trafficking and prisoners slipping away during the firefight – proving to be as smart as Grant hoped they were – was oddly exhilarating. Grant didn’t know if it was mostly excitement of not getting caught or childish desire to stick it to Whitehall. Either way he felt alive as if last several months spent in constant state of numbness never happened at all.

Grant found himself wanting to feel like that all the time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for liking what I wrote! I hope ensuing chapters will live up to your expectations.  
> I made a sort of trailer (not very spoiler-y), if you interested - youtube - /3_LHPFeG8U4
> 
> I hope you will enjoy second chapter.  
> And Happy New Year!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything but probably plot :) - if you recognize something, it's probably not mine. All rights belong to their owners.  
> Cross-posted at fanfiction.net - /s/11701788/1/Discarded  
> Thank you for reading!

Then Grant turned another corner in scientific facility currently being overrun by SHIELD the last people he expected to see were two scientists whose escape he may or may have not orchestrated.

To be precise, these two scientists were in the process of being captured again. Dr. Fitz had gunshot wound in his leg and Dr. Simmons had thrown herself before him. This pointless and useless gesture somehow tugged at Grant's heart when he remembered reversed situation from several weeks ago.

Before he could be horrified at his decided course of actions Grant allowed himself to be relieved that cameras in hallways were disabled in first minutes of SHIELD's attack. With that thought he shot all three agents apprehending scientists.

Despite gunfire heard from all around this hallway became eerily silent. Two SHIELD agents looked at him in incomprehensible disbelief but Grant felt shiver of excitement worm his way into his body leaving goose bumps in its wake. And really, it was worth the risk.

"Drs. Fitz and Simmons?" Grant felt little stupid making this statement question again but identical looks of recognition and annoyance were too entertaining to care about it.

Annoyance slowly made place for horror and Grant decided he hadn't had enough fun for today:

"I suggest hiding somewhere before your fellow agents finish securing their new property. Unless you do want to find out Dr. Whitehall's idea of pleasantly spent time."

Slack with shock face of Dr. Simmons was even funnier than Dr. Fitz's resemblance of gaping fish. Grant felt smile tugging at his lips and didn't resist it. Along with smile laugh was startled out of him. He didn't resist it either.

With mocking sloppy salute at gawking scientists he left hallway.

ooo

Wanting to revel in other people's predicament wasn't characteristic of good person but then Grant never claimed to be good. Besides it wasn't like capture of one of labs was his fault anyway. It was pure coincidence that he had to stick around hour longer and was present when SHIELD stormed the building.

And watching Bakshi being put apart (not literally, sadly) was never going to stop being funny.

Really, from that second meeting with SHIELD scientists Grant couldn't stop feeling cheerful which was all kinds of dangerous considering they just lost one of labs, however insignificant it may be in grand scheme of things. And was even more dangerous in front of _Whitehall._ But Grant couldn't quite bring himself to care when he finally felt something again.

Still he made effort to stay as blank and emotionless as he did always. Dr. Whitehall was either too busy being pissed off at Bakshi or too preoccupied with plans for world domination to pay attention to Grant. He wasn't picky when he was overlooked by predators higher than him in the food chain. _Much_ higher.

Raina slinked off to him as soon as they were dismissed.

"Something interesting happened, agent Ward?" She side-eyed him oddly and he stifled urge to groan. Of course Raina would have noticed.

"You could say that," he smirked as flirtatiously as he could and Raina didn't disappoint in her answering grin. As she sauntered away hips swaying ever so playfully he knew that she would keep digging. After all, what entertainment other than needling him she had in this place there she was constantly afraid?

On second thought, what other entertainment did he have?

Aside from letting two valuable possible assets to get away. Again. Under his terrifyingly scary superior's nose.

Putting disturbing thoughts about his sanity away Grant found himself brooding about his _former_ SO. He was out where somewhere. Without Grant.

Grant clenched his jaw and banished suspiciously jealousy-like feeling. It refused. So Grant used his preferred known way to deal with emotions. Beat them out. Violently.

Then he came in training area most operatives scattered away leaving him wide berth. Any other day he would have been glad to be left alone. Today he scowled which made atmosphere in gym even tenser. Grant looked present agents over and came to conclusion that they will be too scared of him to actually spar but before he could resign himself to beating the crap out of punching bag he noticed the person who didn't look all that afraid of him. Wary, yes, terrified, no.

Tall and fit brunette, her name was on edge of his mind. Morse. Former SHIELD agent, mainly in Bakshi's command. His head of security.

Well, he can see how good Bakshi's attack dog was. With any luck, she would be challenge.

"You're Morse, right?" Grant didn't feel up to social niceties and got straight to the problem.

"And you're Grant Ward," she looked relaxed and at ease. Only tension was betrayed in line of her shoulders. Other than that Grant could have been fooled. Time to see if she was good at anything else.

"Wanna spar?"

"Excuse me?" Slight confusion on her face was actually endearing but right now Grant felt frustrated with the world. And at himself. He went from disconnected to cheerful to jealous…wait, to annoyed in span of less than twelve hours.

"I said "wanna spar?" He barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. That would be rookie mistake to lower his guard in front of unknown opponent who seemed baffled but nodded. It was the only thing that mattered as far as Grant was concerned.

ooo

Spitting blood out in sink Grant surveyed his face in the mirror. There was cut on his right cheekbone, his lip was split and jaw was sore enough that he was going to regret this endeavor at first bite of food tomorrow morning not to mention bruised ribs and spine. But even if spar went little out of hand it was the most fun he had in month. If you don't count "betraying Hydra interests" kind of fun.

"Come on, pretty boy, you still manage to look beautiful even with all that blood and bruises," teasing if little slurred words made him interrupt examination of his reflection.

He turned off the water and coming to stand in doorway from bathroom leveled unimpressed look at Morse – "Bobbi" – as she insisted on calling her.

"Beautiful", really?"

She just grinned unapologetically and infectiously despite split lips and black eye which promised to look spectacular in near future.

Grant crashed on bed next to Morse. She handed him mercifully cold bottle of beer which he put on his throbbing jaw. He barely refrained from hissing in pain but Morse must have heard anyway because she snickered and at his glare unsuccessfully tried to cover it up with coughs.

Grant felt little offended because Morse didn't look all that better than himself what with dislocated shoulder in sling and bruised kneecap.

All in all, she proved to be real challenge. Grant couldn't say then their maybe more intense than appropriate between so-called colleagues spar got more personal and serious becoming vicious and brutal but it was exactly what he needed to unwind and put thoughts about John away.

Grant risked sipping some of beer and noticed Morse eyeing him oddly. He suppressed sigh and tried to dredge some social finesse.

"What?" Needless to say he failed.

Morse chuckled and after another glare hurried to elaborate:

"You're not what I expected."

He finally gave in urge and rolled his eyes. Great, just what did she expect from rumor mill? Elitist "golden boy" thinking himself above fellow agents? Grant was aware that his refusal to have anything in common with other agents and general inability to not be closed off and emotionless came across as arrogance and condescension. To be honest, Grant had them in spades but not for reasons attributed to him.

"I mean, I expected you to be pissed off at being beaten by girl not sharing beer," she took a sip from her own bottle.

Grant rolled his eyes again. He couldn't help it.

"I'm not a misogynist. Or insecure enough in my own masculinity to underestimate you just because you're woman." And since his pride _was_ little hurt. "And you won one time out of three."

She snorted and turned so they were closer to each other which made Grant aware of the fact that they were sitting on his _bed,_ however justifiable it was considering how little furniture he had.

Morse moved even closer so their faces were barely inches apart:

"And I expected you to already make a pass at me since you invited me to your apartment. Either trying to establish your dominance and soothe your ego or just using your position and rank."

"That wasn't my intention," Grant was suddenly reminded of how long ago he has been with someone. Six, seven months ago? Yes, seven, he seduced mark on mission, not long before whole HYDRA reveal thing. Since when he was preoccupied with being lost without John. "I didn't invite you for _that._ "

He stood up and moved to put bottle on desk. All the while trying not to look awkward or embarrassed. Morse just smirked at him. Grant felt annoyed at himself again. He was skilled manipulator. And he excelled in seduction, too, damn it.

"Then why am I here?" She tilted her head to her shoulder.

Grant was asking himself the same question. After he succeeded in taking her down and pinning her to the mats he felt strangely glad. Actually glad that someone defeated him even in spar and not death-or-life fight. And he didn't even felt twinge of shame at thought of John being disappointed in him for loosing. To a girl, no less.

"You're not afraid," words tumbling out of his mouth took him by surprise. He was slipping and powerless to prevent it because he didn't understand the reason why he was unsettled. "Of me, I mean."

Then he realized how pathetic that must have sounded and tried to add:

"We could spar again. I mean, if you don't mind."

She smiled again opening cuts on her lips and nodded.

ooo

Next two and half weeks were mostly quiet. Only sources of unquiet coming in form of evading Raina's curiosity and from time to time sparring with "Bobbi". Seriously, he didn't understand what problem she had with name "Barbara". Aside from that she was fun to be around. She effortlessly filled any silences in conversations he left and carried most of "hanging together" part herself so he didn't have to show how much he sucked at interpersonal relations too much.

This, of course, should have clued him in that something was going to happen.

In hindsight, it was lucky for him that then he saw Hydra's newest acquisition he was with Raina. Considering how much he was covering for her she wouldn't betray him. Without much to gain, anyway.

Dr. Simmons was jovially speaking with one of lab technicians and he was good enough to not trip or stop in his shock. He moved his gaze through lab occupants not pausing on her even if he wanted.

Raina gave him interested smile but continued filling him on her recent discoveries in her work as they made their way past the lab.

Later that day she invited him for a drink. As much as he didn't like the idea he knew it was better to deal with her now than let her try to figure out his interest on her own. Who knows whom she can alert to his behavior?

"…Dr. Simmons is our new biochemist," Raina's chatter looked inconspicuous enough to anyone who didn't know her well, which, unfortunately, Grant did. "I heard she was one half of infamous FitzSimmons, youngest to graduate SHIELD's Sci Tech Academy.

"Yeah, they are famous," Grant pretended to take a sip from his drink. "Decided to come over to dark side?"

"Apparently," Raina adopted most sorrowful expression. "But without her partner, Leo, was it? I am using word "partner" right, am I not?"

"As far as rumor mill was concerned they weren't lovers, just close friends." Grant smiled. "Although, one can never be sure what secrets people keep from prying eyes."

Raina looked at him with pout for split second and then put on serene expression again:

"Such a pity that they are not together. But not anyone can appreciate reward for their compliance to new order."

Raina thoughtfully stirred her drink with pink tiny umbrella. Grant felt sickened and chugged alcohol in one gulp.

ooo

He didn't know what he was doing. He couldn't even justify it to himself. But considering that he was still free and alive he felt it safe to assume that Whitehall wasn't interested in knowing every minute detail of Dr. Simmons' life and didn't ask right question to get just right answer about one misbehaving Hydra agent.

He timed his arrival in hallway to run into one biochemist. He even planned for possibility of it being literal "run into". What he didn't plan, however, was her reaction.

Folder with documents he saved from spilling easily enough and caught scientist from falling by her elbow, too. Her mile-a-minute apologies about not seeing him and ever increasing in embarrassment thanks were enthralling. Like train wreck. He especially liked part about "symmetrical" and "aesthetically pleasing".

He found himself actually smiling at her. When he caught himself doing that he decided it might sell his ultimate plan easier.

"It's not a problem, really," she smiled back shyly and he felt something twisting inside at thought of someone so naïve and innocent being put through something so terrible. "I'm Grant."

She smiled little surer and shook his offered hand:

"I'm Dr. Simmons, I mean, Jemma Simmons, sorry, just Jemma," her rambling was kind of adorable.

"Nice to meet you, "just Jemma," that got little laugh from her. "I'm sure this is beginning of beautiful friendship."

ooo

"What's your interest with Dr. Simmons?" Raina's question was so not different from rest of conversation in tone that Grant almost missed it in chatter filling little cozy cafe.

"Can't I enjoy company of smart and beautiful woman?" He was too aware of the fact that he paused moment too long to look casual.

Raina gave him her patented I-see-right-through-you-but-too-amused-to-say-so smile:

"I thought your ego was being crushed enough already by ninety-five percent of my work-related monologues flying right over your head and half your sparring sessions with Ms. Morse ending with you under her."

He wasn't surprised then his most deadly glare didn't have an effect on her.

"I'm sorry, two thirds of sparring matches."

 _Much_ of effect.

"It's useless but be careful, Ward."

Grant almost choked on his coffee:

"Aww, you do care about me."

Raina just looked at him with strange sort of expression – he wouldn't call it sympathy, more like its sociopathic second cousin:

"You want to help. You relate to her having lived through similar and _surviving._ "

Grant couldn't not react to this:

"Lived through similar?"

She smiled her favorite smile – I-know-everything-about-everything one:

"Be careful, Grant. Whitehall is not Garrett."

He was too confused and incredulous to disagree with her while she left money for her lunch and stood. Did she compare him to brainwashed Jemma? He was in his right mind, not brainwashed even if Whitehall thought otherwise, which Raina couldn't know about anyway. This left her insinuating it about Garrett. And it made even _less_ sense.

Grant pulled out his wallet and thrown away Raina and her games out of thoughts.

_Did you, now?_


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Thank you all so much! I hope this chapter won't disappoint.  
> To NoVacancyMind: thank you! I'm glad you liked. I hope you will like this chapter, too.
> 
> I hope you will enjoy third chapter.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything but probably plot :) - if you recognize something, it's probably not mine. Some phrases are lifted from "Pilot". All rights belong to their owners.
> 
> Cross-posted at fanfiction.net - s/11701788/3/Discarded
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Colonel Talbot was not a bad man or even bad soldier but annoying. Especially because Grant was mostly sure he was in Christian's pocket.

This reason would make coming events all the sweeter. In addition to pulling one over SHIELD.

Turning off TV right at Talbot's confident assurance about inevitable end of both SHIELD and Hydra Grant faced screen with Carl Creer:

"You're certain that SHIELD traced you?"

"Yes," guy hasn't become chattier since Grant last saw him. But Hydra wasn't interested in his people skills.

"Proceed as planned."

ooo

What better way to obtain object you're after than make someone else get it for you?

Make your enemy do it.

And SHIELD duteously did. After Creel was taken into custody by US Air Force they couldn't not understand that Creel wanted exactly that to be put in the same facility as his objective. So of course they infiltrated military base sparing Grant trouble and resources to do it himself.

He didn't expect, however, that Coulson would be ruthless enough to give his agents secondary mission without sharing that information with every member of his team. And here Grant thought that Coulson was all about teamwork and value of cooperation.

If they succeeded in stealing quinjet Grant didn't care. It wasn't his headache to worry about SHIELD and their shenanigans.

One spike strip later car with SHIELD agents was stopped and Grant and team of Hydra operatives became happy owners of 0-8-4. Sorry, _the_ first 0-8-4, which made Whitehall look giddy with excitement. Grant really _really_ didn't want to know what that thing was to put his superior in such state but, unfortunately, he already did.

"Should we pursue them?" Bell asked for orders concerning two shooting agents dragging third one away. If they didn't get her in hospital soon she will die from self-made amputation.

Grant didn't particularly want to kill these agents but…sound of approaching sirens gave him excuse:

"Order retreat."

Later Grant would be frustrated with himself for not accounting for _that_ possibility in plan. Especially, since he _was_ aware of existence of fourth interested party if only vaguely.

Blue sphere lighted in the middle of the road forcing driver to swerve car and fly into the wayside.

Grant came to abruptly and apparently shortly after crash. Brunette woman, early-to-mid twenties, athletic and strangely familiar was wrangling case with Diviner from Bell's hands. Good luck with that – he ordered case to be handcuffed.

"Hurry up!" Male voice from outside of overturned SUV.

"I'm trying but the case is handcuffed!" Woman was annoyed and in the process of finding keys. Problem was – Bell didn't have them. For that matter _Grant_ didn't have them. Exactly for that purpose. He wanted to roll his eyes. Bell was clearly dead – it would have been faster to cut his hand off.

It would have been preferable even if Bell _wasn't_ dead but some people just were too sensitive.

Woman's quick but not frantic search – near, grunting and sounds of foot on asphalt of highway – farther, silence – they chose moment well, road was empty.

Only two of assailants. First – unknown abilities, second – presumably teleporter long wanted by Hydra.

Grant quietly cut the safe belt, pulled out taser disk and threw it right under teleporter's legs.

He cried out warning and tried to get away but didn't have enough time.

Grant didn't wait for him to drop and kicked woman in forearm. Angle wasn't good for any sufficient force to be applied so he opened door and rolled out on opposite side of vehicle. She scurried from him but wasn't fast enough. He swept her legs from under her ignoring dizziness and knocked her out with one precise hit.

Wiping blood from falling in his eyes he bent down to Bell's body, cut off impeding limb, made sure that other passengers were indeed dead and straightened.

Light nausea was light enough to not be concerned about but wasn't reason for his hesitance.

He didn't care about Hydra's interests so much as to drag unconscious teleporter to them but woman…

He remembered where he saw her. Allowing himself another second of indecision he picked her from road in fireman's carry and walked away.

ooo

**Year ago**

"Considering that you're not going to say what you'll gain, care to elaborate what I will?"

Raina honest-to-God pouted at him and when he didn't give her any outward reaction she yielded:

"Future favor from one of the best hackers in this part of the world. And my undying gratitude."

He almost snorted but Raina was entertaining and his promotion to Triskelion almost entirely away from field work was boring and…

The only things he was asked to do was find one old redacted file and make another newer one disappear in SHIELD's bureaucracy machine.

It didn't take him even a day.

ooo

Grant fully admitted that this favor came in handy when HYDRA "came out of the shadows". He called Raina and soon all electronic traces of his existence were erased.

Well, some files on him survived in SHIELD archives – whatever was left of them in new Director's possession – but Grant wasn't worried about them.

He was, however, worried about member of Rising Tide currently allied with group of gifted people.

He didn't know her abilities and couldn't even begin to guess what they could possibly be so he just injected her with enough sedative to make her sleepy and groggy.

She was awake for five minutes already and while her attempt to feign sleep was admirable – if only in theory, – her execution sucked.

"I know you're not unconscious any longer."

She jerked in chair and stared at him with most hilariously hurt expression he's ever seen:

"When why didn't you say so?"

He was stunned at her claim that he almost paused before replying:

"Maybe I enjoyed you pretending to be experienced in this."

"What, being kidnapped?" She sluggishly tugged at her bonds. "Or BDSM? No, I think that's your forte. Although, I wouldn't have pictured evil faceless terrorist tool bag being into kinky stuff."

"It's funny when pseudo-anarchist hacker plays in the game which rules she doesn't even know," - _God,_ wasn't sedative supposed to slow down her tongue, too?

"You are making a big mistake," she had gall to smugly grin at him. Grant ignored feeling her insolent smile was causing in him.

"You don't look that big," he couldn't resist prodding if only to see her reaction.

"At least I'm not T-1000. Do you know what I'm talking about? Or do you need to connect to Internet and search it?" She imitated sound of squeaking, probably implying how rusty cogwheels were turning in his head.

"Processing, processing, please stand by…"

"Enough!" He snapped trying to focus her on her present situation.

She flinched and looked hurt again. He almost regretted his action.

"I will let you go," he ignored her disbelieving expression, "when you tell me what member of Rising Tide is doing with powered people."

"Like I'll tell you," she didn't even have decency to be afraid of him, only aggrieved. "You're Hydra."

"I don't want to bring you to their attention if you have abilities… _Skye._ "

She blanched and couldn't quite contain her shock, although she tried to.

"It's Skye, isn't it? Never "Mary Sue?" She shivered but stubbornly lifted her chin.

"I do understand. If I had name like "Gary Stu", I would have changed it as soon as I can and tried to forget it like horrible nightmare." Grant smiled slowly with just enough touch of sinister to put on edge but not scare right away. "Did you like name "Skye" because it was free and unlimited as, well, "sky"? Wait, maybe you changed it when you found your father? Or when you met your new friends?"

She involuntary swallowed.

"Your buddies must be powerful for you to boast about retribution coming for me," she started to shake. From rage, he could tell she wasn't type to back down. Ever. "I guess they turned out to be not disappointing. Unlike your father. Does he stalk you trying to change your opinion of him?"

"Shut up," she practically growled it. Her eyes were so full of fire that her beauty took his breath away. "You don't know _anything_ about me, Grant Ward."

He smiled again:

"So you _do_ remember me? Aww, I'm flattered. My files must have made _quite_ an impression."

She gritted her teeth:

"What do you want?"

"World peace. What do _you_ want?"

"The truth."

"Entirety of SHIELD's archives wasn't enough? Still with that "hacker ideals?"

"Hacktivist."

"What?"

"Hacktivist – it's hacker and activist…never mind," she looked cute when rambling.

He stood from bed and stepped closer to her. She straightened and started struggling against ropes. He took out knife and came behind her – she froze. He didn't say what his intentions were as he cut her bonds and taking case made his way to the door.

"Don't catch Dr. Whitehall's attention, Skye."

She was still frozen.

Grant exited motel room. So she hasn't gone through mist yet. Coming months promised to be _very_ entertaining.

ooo

"Everything okay, Jemma?" Grant tried not to pay attention to her nervousness but it was obvious something disturbed her. Considering her default happy-to-comply state Grant felt little apprehensive about what could disturb her enough to break through unfailing tranquility.

"Yes," she faintly smiled and then sniffed. "I mean I'm fine but…"

Jemma bit her lip while Grant patiently waited knowing better than to hurry her up.

"There's this guy, kid really. I met him almost year ago at the Academy. More precisely, I helped save his life," she stopped to fidget with her cup. "And now I read his name in report, apparently he gained certain abilities…"

Grant vaguely recalled hearing about two Academy students almost bringing about disaster. Something with storm. Or tornado, maybe. Caused quite a stir back at Triskelion.

"If he's a "gifted", acquisition team will be dispatched to take him in," he said it as gently as he could not wanting to remind Jemma reality of her "employers", which one could forget about in seclusion of lab.

She miserably nodded and Grant halted her torment of cafeteria's property by taking one of her hands in his own:

"Hey…"

Before he could have come up with something falsely consolatory they were interrupted by Bobbi walking up to their table. She apologetically smiled at Grant and politely if coldly nodded in greeting at Jemma who hastily snatched her hand away and embarrassingly enough tried to stand in the presence of superior agent.

"Bakshi wants to see you," Grant internally sighed in exasperation at the timing when Bobbi added:

"Both of you."

Jemma stilled no doubt already beginning to work herself in frenzy about _what_ she could have done wrong while Grant had suspicion it had to do with her and that kid's acquaintance. Donnie Gill.

ooo

"What if he notices that I'm agitated? I'm terrible at lying…"

"Stop, Jemma," Grant was in agreement with her about this plan. It was ill-conceived and asking for trouble with so many variables.

Grant _hated_ variables. But Bakshi formulated course of actions and as good little soldier agent Ward was going to carry it out. To the letter.

"When Donnie will see you twitching, you won't deny it and say that you're working with SHIELD."

Jemma's disbelieving stare made Grant feel offended. He deserved some credit with his reputation.

"Being undercover in Hydra."

Poor Jemma looked stuck between further disbelief and incomprehensibility.

Grant was little proud of himself at succeeding in putting such an expression on face of one of the smartest persons he knew.

"Tell him that extraction team is going to take him en route to Hydra's HQ."

Okay, he was more than _little_ proud of himself.

She finally took control of her emotions enough to hiss at him:

"Me? Undercover? He may have met me only once but he's not going to believe that I'm capable of pulling it off!"

"You're the last person anyone would suspect of spying. Which is exactly why it makes sense," Grant didn't take note of her frantic gestures to keep his voice down. If any of Hydra agents on board of helicopter breathed a word of his current conversation to someone…No, they wouldn't be suicidal enough to try. Grant was sure that he trained them too well for that.

"You're a scientist, too."

That argument silenced her for a moment:

"What is the advantage in that?"

"What information is more valuable to SHIELD?"

After some consideration Jemma nodded in agreement. And fidgeting started again.

"Jemma, everything will be okay."

"How you can be sure of that?" He carefully tipped her chin up to meet his eyes. "I'll keep you safe. I promise."

ooo

Gill believed in Jemma's story readily enough but as expected didn't put much faith in Hydra agents not using activation phrases on him until after they were in HQ.

He ran away from café's table in opposite to Jemma direction right in Grant's hands. Short sentences later he was Hydra asset again. Right on time, too. SHIELD turned up and tried to crash the party. Literally crushing through establishments' interior.

Grant sicced team of operatives on them and ordered agents by radio to prepare helicopter for takeoff.

It was sufficient to distract SHIELD while he ushered Jemma and Gill through Marrakech's alleys and away from persistent pursuers. How did they even find out about Gill?

They made it to open area and helipad and while Grant was ordering Hydra agents to provide cover he saw flash and before his mind realized what was happening his body was already in motion. He pushed Jemma and Gill away and fell down hard catching his head on the railing.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Thank you all so much! I hope this chapter won't disappoint.
> 
> Yes, this universe is quite different, mostly I took one point from canon and changed it and tried to imagine what consequences would be and that's what I came up with.
> 
> I'm sorry for improper use of articles. I have hard time distinguishing when you should use them and how (English is my third language). I'm trying to do better, I promise.
> 
> I hope you will enjoy fourth chapter.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything but probably plot :) - if you recognize something, it's probably not mine. All rights belong to their owners.
> 
> Cross-posted at fanfiction.net - s/11701788
> 
> Thank you for reading!

As he would find out later the only thing that saved him was that he put his uniform jacket on again after strapping on vest to avoid attracting attention on the city's streets.

Rifle round shattered armor plate of his jacket and _just_ stopped in too thin for this kind of firepower vest.

Still he ended up with two broken ribs, very impressive bruising, fracture and vomiting with a side serving of doubled vision.

The alternative being Jemma dead – because she wasn't wearing vest _at all_ – Grant already cursed himself for an hour straight – he didn't mind his injuries.

Although, that required serious "what the fuck?" to SHIELD. They couldn't possibly believe that Jemma voluntarily signed up for Hydra membership after she was kidnapped and brainwashed. Didn't Grant tell about the Faustus Method agent Fitz?

Maybe they haven't seen her face and consequently haven't recognized her? Grant admitted that for entirety of the firefight he was between SHIELD agents and Jemma. And she dragged Gill around – asset which SHIELD knew about – as any good little Hydra soldier would have done.

He just hoped that nobody noticed him being compromised. Especially Daniel fucking Whitehall. It as much could have been Grant unquestioningly following orders _not_ putting Jemma's safety before the mission...

He was going to enjoy bed rest while it lasted because if Whitehall suspected for even a _second_ that Grant thrown off his brainwashing efforts, he would put him through his torture device again and Grant would have to fake being broken and made compliant _again._ Last time was horrible enough. More so than previous ones years ago.

Why did John leave him here?

Why?

ooo

Grant heard Jemma's steps coming to his bed some time ago but still she didn't speak up so he waited and feigned sleep.

Finally she tried to sit in a chair as silently as possible – which is to say, not at all – and stayed quiet again. Grant almost groaned – was she afraid of waking him up?

"Jemma," he didn't want to startle her but she yelped and almost fell on the floor.

He sat without thinking and was rewarded with sharp stabs of pain and couldn't hold moan.

Jemma scrambled to him:

"Are you alright? I'm so sorry, I wanted to visit but doctors wouldn't let me and I was afraid they weren't telling me that something has happened…"

"Stop, Jemma, breath." Grant wanted to laugh, badly. But his ribs would certainly protest.

Jemma abruptly halted her worries and sheepishly sat back.

"I'm fine," at her pointed glance Grant winced. "I' _ll_ _be_ fine."

She skeptically looked him over and then lowered her eyes starting to fidget with the hem of her shirt.

"I…I only wanted to thank you." She looked up and Grant was shocked to see that she was holding back tears. "I never expected anyone to…risk their lives for me."

Grant felt surreal. He was just doing his job – and underperforming – he placed her safety above the mission. Thank God, Whitehall didn't interpret it as such.

"Jemma, I made you a promise, remember?"

She jerkily nodded and hastily wiped at escaped tear.

"I just don't want anything to happen to you." She flushed and averted her gaze. Grant felt his heart lurch inside like it did the first time he nearly fell down from twenty stories up.

"You're my first real friend…" She bit her lip trailing off as if afraid she said too much. Grant felt something strange rising in his chest.

"You're too."She turned her face to him and Grant stopped breathing waiting for her response.

Then he almost convinced himself it was stupid and pathetic she flashed him the most brilliant smile he ever seen from her.

He supposed that's how she must have looked before Whitehall broke her into compliant and frightful kitten.

That's how she must have looked when she smiled at Leo Fitz.

Jemma bashfully tucked one of locks and launched at something about biometric sensors and Deoxyribo-something.

Grant listened to her chatter and suddenly realized what this something slowly curling up around his heart was. It was long- _long_ -familiar acquaintance, intimate tenant, whom Grant didn't recognize because for years he felt it only directed at Christian and their parents.

Hate.

ooo

After being banished from active duty for additional two weeks ( _at least_!) – accompanied with unending stream of advice and exhortation from Jemma – he closed door to his apartment and not bothering to undress fell on bed.

His ribs expressed their displeasure but Grant roughly rolled and induced another wave of pain. Sharp and vicious it reminded him that this wasn't a dream or hallucination caused by Whitehall and he wasn't strapped before TV screen again.

He waited and waited and _waited._ Driving himself as close to anxiety attack as he could because _Whitehall should have noticed._

He didn't do anything and Grant felt desire to curl up in ball and not leave his bed – and apartment – ever.

World was stopping to make any sense. John threw him away as tiresome toy, Raina was looking at him with sympathy – yes, he was pretty damn sure of it, Whitehall didn't notice he was compromised and no longer brainwashed – admittedly, the last time it was spectacularly uncontrollable and whole lab knew the second he shook off programming – and him…he was spinning.

He wanted John to come back and give him direction again, he wanted John to take him away from Hydra and Jemma with her skittish tics and likeable attitude, he just wanted John back.

Didn't he deserve at least proper goodbye if John didn't need him anymore?

After _what_ he, Grant, did for him?!

He jumped from the bed and grabbing a lamp from a desk hurled it at the wall. Pain cut through him but he barely noticed.

He overturned the table, repeatedly hit chair against it until it scattered with slivers and springs, tore mattress from the bed and ripped at the sheets and pillows causing feathers to fill the room.

He tried to break bed frame but caught his leg on bottom and overbalancing went down to the floor.

As he lay there he thought that he was lucky he didn't hurt himself further.

If someone did watch him he gave Whitehall reason to brainwash him anew.

Great.

ooo

In three days nobody came to drag him out kicking and screaming to re-education. Grant was in equal measure annoyed and relieved.

Faced with prospect of bouncing off the walls for next ten days he actually felt fear for his sanity.

So he pulled painstakingly expropriated mission objectives of Scarlotti for next weeks and tried to convince himself what bad idea it was to go and spy on powered-people-acquisition in hope of seeing her again.

Sure, she was smart-ass…smart and funny and fierce and breathtaki…

Wait, what?

No, no, no. Hot, yes, attractive, yes…beautiful, ye…

What?

Oh, no. He was screwed. More so than he already was.

ooo

He spent additional four days arguing with himself but the truth was he didn't want things solely for his own enjoyment all that much. Even though that started to change since that meeting with FitzSimmons it still wasn't often: sparring with Bobbi, spending time with Jemma…

Wanting to see that hacker. Sorry, hacktivist.

Point was – he feared that if he didn't act on his immediate desires they would vanish and he will go back to numbness. And it was scaring him. He wanted to… _want._

 _God,_ he made no sense at all.

John would be so disappointed…fuck John.

He can go and fuck himself. With all his important stuff and secret projects that Grant wasn't allowed to know about and participate in.

Yes, that's it. He, Grant, will go and do whatever he wants. Maybe then they drag him to Hydra's HQ Whitehall would call John to say how much of a failure Grant became and John would regret leaving him all alone.

ooo

Grant circled his apartment block ten times, wasted _hours_ shaking imaginable tails and finally arrived at his destination having made a detour through two states with two days to spare.

Yes, he was paranoid. So sue him – he knew who he was dealing with and he didn't want to bring attention to Skye even more than she already did on her own.

Scarlotti and his gang were pathetic enough that Grant wanted to stroll right to them and remedy their training – _this_ they called making sure they weren't watched?

But Grant wasn't here to better Hydra agents. He preferred them little better than the SHIELD ones and whole lot worse than him.

"Eighth floor! Non-lethal force only!"

Grant adjusted his rifle's scope and listened in on Hydra's progress. It was going not so hot.

Apparently teleporter came alone – after all he was here just to grab woman and her son and get away. Grant felt little let down – so much worrying whether to come or not and she wasn't even there?

Then he saw her.

Running from a café block away, stuffing her laptop in a bag, _right in the open._

Why he liked her, again?

She ran into the building at full speed not stopping.

No, really, there must be some another reason why she caught his attention. It couldn't have been stupid recklessness.

Grant was tense but Scarlotti's people were preoccupied with their main objective – who was putting up one hell of a fight.

She came out of the doors with second objective and his mother and not even looking for cover started running.

No, clearly, he lost his mind. There was no other explanation.

He took out two agents that Scarlotti had presence of mind and ability to spare from apprehension-gone-wrong but one more ducked and seconds later all four figures were out of his sight.

Grant didn't waste time for cursing himself. He grabbed a helmet, thrown the rifle there it was – he was professional, not militant – and tore down the stairs.

Dropping bike at the entrance to the lane he was just in time to see Skye releasing magazine from Glock in her hands.

For a moment the whole alley was frozen.

Then Grant shot Hydra agent before he remembered he had _not empty_ gun in his hands. Taser disks took care of the rest of present.

Grant was starting to understand why Romanoff liked them and her bracelets so much. He just never had any reason to leave someone alive before.

Now, how was he going to drag away three people on _motorcycle?_

ooo

Grant was pleased to see that while her attempt at feigning sleep was still terrible, it was better than at their previous meeting.

She was learning. It was relief, seriously.

Time to see, _how fast_ she was at learning.

"I still know that you're awake, _Skye._ "

She straightened in her chair and with huff crossed her hands:

"Why am I not bound and gagged?"

"Wow, not even going to get to know me better first?" Grant made a show of looking her up and down. "I mean, I wouldn't say no, but I thought you…"

She jumped up and snatched the gun from the table at her right – so she did pay attention to her surroundings, how _cute:_

"Give me one reason to not shoot you!" She looked really hot then worked up.

Focus, Grant.

"You're the one who suggested the BDSM in the first place? I'm pretty flexible at my preferences, if you want to…"

And the magazine dropped on the carpet.

"…Or I could have said that you _really_ suck at handling weapons."

She _actually stomped her foot_ and picked up offending piece of plastic and put it back in. She didn't release the magazine again. She just looked at the gun like it personally insulted her.

"It's a _Glock,_ you know."

She whipped her head up interrupting her pouting inspection of the weapon and confusedly blinked at him.

"Let me guess, this gun isn't yours, is it?"

"No," she mulishly admitted. "I knocked it out from another Hydra tool bag's hand."

Grant was torn between annoyed at being compared to someone on whom untrained unprofessional got a drop on and pleasantly surprised that she did it.

"Glocks don't have traditional safeties; it's basically grab-and-shoot kind of gun."

"Then how people don't shoot themselves?" Her open suspicion that he was pulling one over her hurt. A little. It was basic information and she could verify it easily. Can't she give his lying abilities a little more credit?

"There's trigger safety, pin and drop safeties…And you don't understand a word I'm saying, do you?" Grant wanted to sigh. Very much.

"Yep," she bounced on her balls and waved gun. Grant wanted to groan. It was loaded with dummy rounds, yes. But it was terrible habit to instill.

"How about a deal? You disassemble and reassemble this gun in…two minutes and I will let you go." She suspiciously stared at him. "And tell you there I've stashed your new friends."

She clenched her jaw but stayed quiet.

"Come on, if I brought them to Hydra's HQ, I would have brought you, too. And if I decided to hold you for nefarious purposes, I wouldn't have been playing this game – you do realize that I'm stronger, faster and better trained." Grant said his next words as unthreateningly as he could manage. "If I wanted to, I would have already done something to you. But I'm not going to, I promise."

Skye was pale and if looks could kill…but she regained control of her emotions soon enough:

"Two minutes?"

"Yes," Grant let himself smile. "I suggest achieving it fast – I don't remember if I left water in their reach or not."

She just eviscerated him with her glare and released the magazine from weapon in her hands.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Thank you all so much! I hope this chapter won’t disappoint.  
> To NoVacancyMind: thank you very much for your comment - I'm actually quite embarassed :)  
> I hope you will enjoy fifth chapter.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything but probably plot :) - if you recognize something, it's probably not mine. Some phrases are lifted from "Ragtag". All rights belong to their owners.  
> Cross-posted at fanfiction.net - s/11701788  
> Thank you for reading!

Arriving at his apartment with three days of forced vacation left Grant started to feel bored again. Even after he ordered a new bed and with some debating basically gave store manager carte blanche in filling his place with furniture he was contemplating returning to HQ early when Raina called him.

"Jemma's in a hospital."

He didn't remember the rest of the conversation or if he even had it and didn't just hang up and rushed with only fear overflowing him.

Then he burst in the hospital's waiting room it was already secured by Hydra agents and while he was relieved at Bobbi's efficiency he only could think of finding Raina.

But it was Bobbi who strode to him and caught by arm before he could go and make a nuisance of himself to doctors:

"Don't get in the way – they're doing everything they can."

Grant forced himself to take a deep and slow breaths and not lash out to her:

" _What happened?_ "

Bobbi didn't release her grip:

"Accident in a lab – she inhaled tetrodotoxin." Grant felt his heart stopping. He lurched in the direction of the doors to reanimation but Bobbi restrained him and when he tried to hit her she got him in hammerlock and banged against the wall.

He pushed against her several times feeling as pain shot through his shoulder and finally got his emotions under control:

"I'm fine, you can let me go."

"Really?" She didn't weaken her hold for a second – Grant supposed hospital personnel should be thankful to her.

"Yeah, I'm not going to run and interfere with doctors' work."

She disbelievingly snorted but freed him.

Grant rubbed his shoulder but stayed put. Bobbi didn't relax – she was too damn good.

"Where's Raina? She was the one who called me."

"She's actually the one who increased Simmons' chances – while others in the lab froze, Raina started pulmonary resuscitation and continued before the medics arrived. Now she's being checked for the symptoms of poisoning. Come on, I'll walk you."

Raina?

ooo

Raina was sitting on a bed and turning nurse around to the idea that he should allow her to change from hideous scrubs.

Grant didn't have even a shred of patience left. He glared guy out, shut the door and slowly and threateningly advanced on Raina.

He felt rewarded then she stiffened and struggled to not back down.

"What are you playing at?"

She arched one eyebrow:

"Me? I was just going to ask Dr. Simmons to accompany me to lunch – _as I did for the last ten days._ "

Grant couldn't think of a reason for her actions: "Why?"

"Isn't it what one supposed to offer one's friend? Companionship?"

"Jemma is not your friend." Grant gritted his teeth and reminded himself that shaking Raina until she started talking and actually making sense wasn't going to help.

"Isn't she, now?" Raina smiled. "She's your friend. And you're my friend, are you not?"

Grant was tempted to say that he wasn't Jemma's friend – _because Jemma was brainwashed._ And he sure as hell wasn't Raina's friend but…Raina was going somewhere with this:

"Is it what you would call our _relationship?_ "

She smiled wider:

"It sounds better than saying "I owe him my life, my freedom and relative safety", don't you think?" She put on sorrowful expression. "But you never called Garret your friend, so I suppose you wouldn't _understand._ "

Grant felt sudden chill at her words. Did she really consider herself indebted to him? Was that why she was looking after Jemma while he wasn't there to do it himself?

But he didn't do _that_ much.

ooo

**Year ago**

If Raina thought he wouldn't dig around for information about that hacker from Rising Tide whose file he made not-completely-accessible in SHIELD's database, she would be unpleasantly surprised.

But she was too smart to overlook it and Grant didn't like the things he didn't understand how to control.

Sneaking around with SHIELD none the wiser was hard but certainly doable. He traced Raina to a warehouse in a port and laid in wait.

There was some activity inside but Grant didn't know who it was and whom it someone worked for. So he waited.

And was rewarded.

Raina and young woman, easily identified from no longer available surveillance photos and interrogation video as simply "Skye", walked in.

Not even hour later there were screams and noises of struggle. Then Skye run out. Alone.

Before Grant could decide if he wanted to get involved the piercing woman's scream made his decision for him.

Then he rushed inside the room having lost time navigating through building used for not intended purposes the man, who he would later learn was Skye's father or just Doctor, nearly strangled Raina who was futilely trying to break free:

"It's your fault, stupid girl! Now she thinks I'm a monster!"

Grant didn't wait to see more of admittedly interesting drama and shot him.

Well, tried to. The older man showed unnatural abilities. In particular hearing and ducked then he heard gun's cocking.

Next ten minutes were ones of the most unpleasant for Grant to remember. He severely underestimated opponent who tried to turn himself into super soldier and while certainly not succeeding made more than admirable effort.

After being bodily slammed into the walls and floor and tables he managed to get incensed man in thigh lock worthy of Romanoff and strangle him a little bit.

Embarrassingly enough he checked out after and came to with Raina in a stolen car almost hundred miles away.

ooo

"You don't owe me anything. We're just…" Grant floundered for words. "…have a mutually beneficial alliance, that's all."

Raina continued to smile – now it was number two favorite, disturbingly-seductive one:

"But so far I've benefited more than you – you gained nothing by killing Dr. Jefferson while I…"

She trailed off. Yes, yes, stayed off Dr. Whitehall's radar. She just was lucky that Margaret Jefferson came to him with suspicious lab analysis by old habit ingrained then he was Garrett's right hand at Centipede.

" _You_ killed Jefferson." He couldn't help but point out. Raina smirked:

"After _you_ handed her over to me to do as I pleased."

"Look, Raina, I'm relieved that Jemma's alive because you've been playing decent human being but maybe stop…"

She interrupted him and Grant was troubled to hear what seemed to be genuine bitterness and hurt in her voice:

"Don't you like having someone _in debt_ to you? _Owing_ you so much? Willing to do _anything_ for the one who saved you and _one person_ who _really_ gives half a damn about you unlike Cal?"

"Don't be ridiculous, I saved your life not turned you into my slave…" Grant abruptly stopped.

Raina triumphantly smiled.

 _I owe him everything._ Words he told Raina so long ago echoed and pulsed.

But it was different with John. He pulled Grant from hell, build him back up, made him into someone _worthy_ not weak and pathetic.

_You've been accepted By SHIELD's operations division, effective immediately._

_Thank you, sir, for everything._

_Don't do that. You don't owe me or anybody else a thing. You earned it by yourself._

Grant squeezed his head but he could hear blood beating in his temples.

Raina rose from the bed and made her way to him. She forced his hands away from his head and when he tried to turn away from her she grabbed his chin and met his eyes:

"Either I owe you and going to be at your beck and call _for the rest of my life_ or…" She smiled her favorite smile number four – _gotcha._ "…you don't belong to him, Grant Ward."

He swallowed and breaking from her knowing gaze run away.

ooo

He field stripped his sidearm for probably hundredth time waiting for news on Jemma's condition. Hospital's roof provided much needed solitude. _And no Raina._

Unfortunately, someone else thought it was a good place to hide.

Grant prepared to threaten dismemberment or just plain break some bones in any of stupid Hydra agents who were told by Bobbi to _leave him the fuck alone_ but the person who stood ten feet away from him wasn't Hydra.

At least, in strict sense.

Donnie Gill stubbornly set his shoulders and moved closer.

Grant was sick of people breaking into his personal space for today. But he said nothing.

Kid was wary of him but too headstrong to back down from chosen course of actions:

"I wanted to thank you."

God, what was wrong with people?!

"For saving Jemma and me." Kid was finally feeling tension of being unwelcome by Grant but he just went ahead:

"I heard many things about you in last few weeks but Jemma likes you." Did he start to call her "Jemma" during this time? Damn, Grant couldn't leave for two weeks and Jemma already made two new friends?

_Possessive much?_

God, now Raina was in his head _literally?_

"And seeing you in the waiting room…you really do care about her, don't you?"

Kid actually wanted to hear his answer? What was it with people prying about his emotions lately?

 _God,_ it was so much easier then he didn't feel anything.

"The right question is "do you?"

Gill frowned obviously not understanding.

Grant tried to dredge up something resembling patience:

"Why are you here?" Out of Hydra's HQ. Grant thought that after all the trouble Gill caused he wouldn't be allowed out of the building. Like Jemma was. Adventure in the Marrakech and current situation notwithstanding.

"I was in the lab then…then it happened. But I just stood there doing nothing. She saved me and I just watched…"

He clenched his fists. Oh, good, rage management issues. Grant could relate – damn Berserker staff still occasionally featured in his nightmares. But it wasn't his job to look after this kid, too. He barely knew what to do with Jemma. Not to mention Raina.

Oh no, _don't_ mention Raina.

"Fear is powerful. It happens."

Kid scorched him with intensity of his glare:

"I wasn't _afraid._ "

"Then what…"

"I didn't know what to do. I was helpless. Lost…" Kid started shaking.

Before Grant could hit himself he already covered the distance between them and grabbed kid by the shoulders. Not rough but firm.

"It wasn't your fault. What happened with Jemma was an accident." Kid looked ready to argue. "But save this rage for situations over which you _do_ have control."

"And place blame accordingly. Either on yourself or someone who deserves it. But don't let _it_ control you."

"I don't even know what I _can_ control."

"Start with yourself."

Kid stiffened and Grant wanted to curse himself. Yes, kid already broke through brainwashing once but now he was under constant surveillance by Whitehall…Grant was too.

Didn't stop him from doing stupid and suicidal things, now did it?

"Will you help me?" _These_ were the last words Grant expected to hear. Especially, directed at him.

But if Grant realized one thing from hanging around two scientists (even if Raina belonged to slightly different category… _don't_ mention Raina) it was that Whitehall _wasn't_ one.

All this talk about "Discovery requiring experimentation" but he never gave a damn about _reason, source, explanation._ He only cared whether it could be used for his and Hydra's interests.

And that's why in all the time that Whitehall was aware of existence of people like Grant, Donnie Gill and even Carl Creer who were capable of breaking his programming (and he spent considerable time and effort to rectify it and better his procedure), he not even _once_ asked _why_ they were able to do it and _how_ they did it.

Grant finally found Whitehall's one weakness. And he was going to exploit it.

"Yes. I will."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Thank you all so much! I hope this chapter won't disappoint.
> 
> Thanks to everyone for your comments!
> 
> I hope you will enjoy sixth chapter.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything but probably plot :) - if you recognize something, it's probably not mine. All rights belong to their owners.
> 
> Cross-posted at fanfiction.net - s/11701788
> 
>  
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Having survived first twenty four hours Jemma was declared officially out of the woods. Even though she was hooked to a medical ventilator, Bobbi assured him that it was for a few days at most. Still sight of tubes and pumps breathing for Jemma filled Grant with helplessness and rage.

Whitehall decided that as no longer requiring specific medical treatment she could be moved so Hydra relocated her back to HQ.

Needing to busy himself while waiting for Jemma to regain consciousness he dug on Scarlotti's files and found out that he actually succeeded in capturing teleporter – having lost nine people.

Grant was impressed – guy sold his freedom highly.

But this presented a problem – Skye will show up to get him out. She was stubborn and reckless like that.

Only it would be in vain because the valuable acquisition was already en route to von Strucker and Grant had no idea there his base was. Well, he had a hunch it was somewhere in Eastern Europe but more than that…

Skye wouldn't care about it. She will try to snoop around and will get caught.

He needed a plan for that case.

ooo

Grant usually liked to be right ( _very_ much). But now he would have been glad to be _not_ right.

Skye was captured. Thankfully, Scarlotti and company decided she was just a noisy hacker entangled with the powered people since she didn't have any abilities of her own. But the moment her DNA was checked there just might be found a concurrence in part of it with _someone else._ And then Dr. Jefferson's death may stop looking as an accident.

Really, Grant was doing it out of self-preservation. Not because he didn't like the thought of her being cut open and kept alive during it – all for finding out what makes her tick.

It sounded weak even in his own head.

ooo

"Keep it on you and be ready to proceed to the address in it." Grant dropped phone in Raina's bag at the hallway's blind spot.

Raina took it in stride and continued her stream of complaints about one of the lab occupants staining her dress with orange juice, can he imagine?

Grant imagined with no problems that soon unfortunate woman will find out that flowers sometimes had thorns, were deadly poisonous and on occasion could eat you alive and when lament about bad indigestion.

Grant was of the opinion that one shouldn't put all sorts of nasty things in mouth but Raina's habits weren't his concern.

Honestly, his backup plan in case operation-save-Skye ended with him being discovered (or caught) shouldn't include a dropbox prepared for Raina personally but damn if Grant was going to allow Raina to get captured after all the trouble he went through to keep her unnoticed.

It was for this reason alone. And he _needed_ to figure out what Raina wanted with all her mind games being weaved around him. Only because of that he was bothering with her.

At another blind spot Raina squeezed his arm.

His excuses really sucked.

ooo

Grant was wrapping up new mission then Bobbi called and informed him that as soon as he would finish he was expected in Miami to provide backup for Bakshi and their newest recruit, agent 33, because Bakshi managed to stumble on Coulson himself at the fundraising gala of all things.

Grant wanted to curse. And not because his careful timing of squeezing personal mission between actual and official ending of Hydra one was going to hell.

Well, that too. But mostly he was pissed at having to work at stupid people. They got their objective. Why stay and risk it? Didn't they know that you should never underestimate your opponent?

To be honest, Grant sometimes made this mistake, too, but Hydra's arrogance was something out of this world.

So he had to clean up in case Bakshi would screw up, which meant going up against who knows how many SHIELD agents, and finding time to rescue Skye in very short window of opportunity, not to mention actually making it to Miami.

And not getting caught, but honestly, it started to sound optional.

ooo

"…man, late forties, Caucasian, 5'9''. And there maybe woman with him – early to mid-forties, athletic, Chinese, 5'4''."

Grant ended the call before agent could say anything and walked away from a payphone.

Part one of the re-imagined plan – ready.

Now he had a plane to catch to the capital.

ooo

Passing by the rear SUV covering a duty truck Grant stuck small bomb on it and then repeated the same with another SUV in the head of the little procession.

It was such a pity that he couldn't use any of the toys provided by Hydra – or even the ones at the same level of technology as SHIELD's. But he had no intention to be found out.

Armored vehicles survived explosions but their destruction wasn't his goal. He maneuvered his bike between panicking drivers after his mark which didn't slow down and increased speed in direction of the Reagan airport.

Another two tiny bombs were cast and stuck on the door's hinges and the truck's rear side blew open.

One smoke grenade later Hydra agents inside were picked off one by one and despite the truck's driver and passenger causing trouble Grant managed to catch Skye who jumped after very vocal and unfavorable choice words about his sanity.

She held on so tight that Grant had difficulty controlling the bike and said so.

In answer he got his visor covered with her hair when she unstuck for a second to no doubt express how much of an idiot he was but changed her mind and clung tighter.

"I can sit behind you," she shouted trying to be heard over the wind in suggestion several minutes later but Grant shook his head. The last thing they needed was for her to try acrobatics at fifty-five mph.

ooo

Pulling over at an alley Grant got off from the bike and handed Skye a bag:

"There is some money, ID, wig and clothes. Don't continue your rescue – your friend is somewhere on another continent and you wouldn't be able to storm the base even with SHIELD's help."

Skye ignored his extended hand and spit out with surprising venom:

"As if I will ask SHIELD for help. They're no better than you. At least Hydra doesn't deny they're evil."

Evil? Can she get even more immature?

"Not impressed with SHIELD, I see." Grant knew her history of interactions with SHIELD was too short to warrant such an emotional response.

"Ace is an orphan, Chan Ho is dead – because instead of trying to help, SHIELD labeled people as too much of a security risk." She was getting worked up. Grant had nothing against the sight but he _was_ on a schedule.

"Look, maybe I'm evil but I'm trying to help you – you will get yourself killed or worse and it will be in vain." She mulishly crossed her arms.

Clock was ticking.

"And there are your friends anyway?" Grant should have noticed earlier the fact that in the report Skye was not only the one captured but also the only one _sighted_ near Scarlotti's temporary safe house.

She stayed quiet.

"Whatever. When you'll get yourself in trouble – _again,_ message me." He took out a phone and having opened app on a profile page gave it to her. She reluctantly accepted.

"Dating app?" She didn't have to sound so horrified. More than ten million visitors in a month – enough to go unnoticed.

"Wall-E?!"

Grant dropped the bag and without responding started the engine.

He was spy for God's sake. Did she really think that he could be unacquainted with popular culture at least in general sense?

ooo

Miami FBI office wasn't a place Grant wanted to make a scene at but he arrived in the city two hours after Bakshi made a complete fool of himself and if not for Grant's emergency plan, Coulson and May would have gotten away and with the painting, too.

The problem was – how to get inside governmental agency and make off with the object currently featuring as the main evidence of the committed crime?

Grant supposed he should be relieved that Hydra team on site at least managed to extract Bakshi and agent 33 without FBI noticing.

And that Bakshi was still unconscious from SHIELD's new toys. Tetrodotoxin rounds. The same toxin from which Jemma almost died trying to create an aerosol weapon.

Grant gritted his teeth and ordered Hydra agents to bring him another sample of Glenn Talbot's blood.

ooo

Flashing military ID at the entrance Grant wanted to groan at hastiness with which he thrown together yet another plan. He just hoped that no one would call Air Force before he made it out of the building.

And have never met Talbot in person because while two inches between his and Bakshi's height might have gone unnoticed – barely, _four_ inches he had on esteemed Colonel were too much.

"Agent Kang? I'm Colonel Talbot, I talked to your people on the phone." Grant shook hands with agent in charge of investigating attempted theft of the painting from Santa Maria de las Flores.

"Yes, I was informed. However, I'm afraid I can't release the painting in your custody." Grant wanted to groan very badly. "Frankly, I don't understand what US military would want with a sixteenth century work of art."

"Matter of National security." Grant put on a hardened expression. "I see that you're the principled person and I respect that but with this case you're getting so in over your head, you can't imagine how much."

Agent skeptically lifted an eyebrow.

Damn him.

"I don't want your people to get hurt in the crossfire because SHIELD is involved." _That_ got his attention. He uncrossed his arms and straightened.

"SHIELD?" Agent Kang was a good actor but not on Grant's level. Something was off.

Grant peripherally saw one of the agents _too_ casually getting to a water dispenser – right in Grant's blind zone.

Damn. He was made. Don't tell him that Coulson actually told FBI about Hydra's interest in the art.

"I thought you declared on TV not so long ago that SHIELD was no longer a threat."

Grant discreetly pushed button on his watch and released it after three seconds signaling fifteen minutes to the extraction team and smiled tight-lipped I-know-you-trying-to-catch-me bureaucrat's smile: "Threat doesn't stop being a threat until all its roots are found and eradicated."

"What about Hydra?" Agents in the room were slowly and inconspicuously relocating. Amateurs.

"You make a difference between them?"

Surprisingly agent shook his head:

"The moment current SHIELD's leadership refused to present themselves before government and continued conducting their operations without governmental approval and adherence to the laws they became nothing more than vigilantes at best and terrorists as Hydra at worst."

Grant suddenly wished that he could have seen Coulson's face when agent Kang said these exact words to him.

Maybe he can bribe Skye to pull up the interrogation video feed?

"SHIELD considers themselves above such petty things as laws and transparency and oversight – they're too busy saving the planet." Grant smiled genuinely.

Agent Kang didn't return it:

"Before I decide if I should give you the painting, can you share any information on what they want with it?"

Grant thought that would be obvious to anyone who has seen the painting's back and didn't deny it:

"Symbols carved at the back are presumably of extraterrestrial nature."

"They interested only in the symbols, not the painting?" Agent's face became unreadable. "I guess, after they're done with it, the painting will be just disposed of?"

Honestly, Grant never even thought to consider what would happen to the painting after it was scanned and analyzed. Maybe Whitehall will put it on the wall in his cabinet? He seemed to appreciate antiquity.

"Probably." He wanted to see FBI agent's reaction.

"Work of art aged more than four hundred years is nothing compared to alien technology for them." Agent pierced him with his stare. "And they don't care that it is whole community's only hope."

Grant kind of admired his passionately held principles, he did. But why did people insist on not seeing the world for what it really was?

"They think themselves above the laws but for reasons entirely different from SHIELD."

Agent Kang smiled for the first time since Grant met him:

"No one should be above the law."

"They don't ask, agent, they take what they want."

Punch to the throat, agent Kang went down – one, his watch was thrown in the center of the room, exploding with enough noise to unbalance everyone not prepared.

Grant dropped to the floor and swept legs out from under agents behind his back – two, three, their guns were appropriated and under cover of the office furniture he placed precise shots at shoulder joints, kneecaps, ankles – four more, rolling over Grant shot at a fire alarm and landed near an open window.

Standing up he shot at the room in general keeping agents down and climbed out of the building's fifteenth storey.

Short distance later he was outside of the bathroom on the level with evidence storage. Shooting at a glass Grant used taken off jacket of dress blues and got inside protecting himself from shards with it.

Exiting bathroom he unbuttoned his shirt revealing simple black T-shirt underneath, rolled up sleeves, put on baseball cap, having pulled nano mask off and stashed it in his pants' pocket already.

Mass of the people leaving due to triggered fire alarm and shooting was easy enough to get lost in.

Guards at the storage didn't waste more than half a minute of his time and cameras he just shot.

Finding the painting right there it was labeled to be in the hacked roster he tied it to his back with shirt's ripped remains and climbed outside from the nearest empty room. After extraction team shot off a harpoon with attached zip line from the building on the opposite side of the road he jumped on it.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Thank you all so much! I hope this chapter won't disappoint.
> 
> Thanks for the comments!
> 
> I hope you will enjoy seventh chapter.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything but probably plot :) - if you recognize something, it's probably not mine. Some phrases are lifted from season 1 of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. All rights belong to their owners.
> 
> Cross-posted at fanfiction.net - s/11701788
> 
> If you're celebrating 7th January, then Happy Christmas!
> 
> Thank you for reading!

"Whose bright idea it was to involve FBI of all people?" Whitehall seemed upset but it might have been a ploy.

"Mine."

"His."

Grant turned and glared at Bakshi. Bakshi returned the sentiment - with feeling.

"Director Coulson and agent May are placed by all governmental agencies at the top of their wanted lists." Whitehall lifted a glass and sipped _the_ wine – the one he always gloated about to show his virtues of patience and foresight.

"And we have the painting. Any news?"

So, a ploy. Bakshi looked as if he tasted vinegar. Grant didn't feel even a bit of sympathy:

"The painting is five hundred years old but the carvings are new."

"So there is someone out there who has the same symptoms as John Garrett." Grant wanted to add _and Phil Coulson._ And _maybe_ all of the patients of T.A.H.I.T.I. protocol. So no reason to make it sound as something special.

But it was special – John continued to send the photos of his carvings but after so many months Hydra still wasn't any closer to understanding what it meant.

"Find out what SHIELD knows." Seriously, how were they supposed to do that then they didn't manage to plant even one mole inside renewed SHIELD?

"What about the painting?" Grant was relieved that Bakshi actually felt useless enough that _he_ asked that question.

"Whatever you want to."

Grant never lingered after being dismissed and wasn't going to start now. No sense to give your superiors time to dump something else on you while you're in the sight.

"Take care of the painting, agent Ward." Bakshi's parting orders in the corridor implied that _he_ would go to do actually important things – like plan how to spy on SHIELD.

Whatever left his ego satisfied. Grant didn't care. He got the painting's fate in his hands without doing anything for it at all.

It meant that something disastrous was coming. But Grant decided to enjoy quiet while it lasted.

ooo

Standing outside of the lab he watched Jemma and agent 33 – fight with the Cavalry ended very painfully for Hydra's new agent.

Jemma exited the room and smiled upon seeing him. Grant was pleased that his presence was good at least for putting some color back on her face.

She regained consciousness only two days ago and already wrangled light duty from the doctors insisting that some intellectual stimulation was just the thing for her to regain her equilibrium. She even used his name then they tried to forcefully make her stay put in the bed.

Grant was interested if Jemma Simmons, agent of SHIELD, would have resorted to basically threatening someone with death (or at least pain – _very_ much pain) to get what she wanted.

Somehow, he had trouble imagining it. But after her near-death experience she got some of her backbone back – the same silly but brave one he saw at their first and second meetings.

And it was better than fearful and insecure Jemma.

"Hey, how is she?"

Jemma looped her arm through his and leaned her head on it:

"I can't do anything for her. Unless we find the creator of a photostatic veil she's stuck wearing that mask – with May's face."

"Can't she turn it off?" Jemma sighed and mumbled in his sleeve:

"The scars under the mask are even worse than with it. She doesn't want to continue wearing May's face but alternative terrifies her more."

Grant didn't like the idea of being stuck with someone else's face for the foreseeable future. It was enough that he could become anyone and anything needed for a mission at the drop of a hat.

He supposed he never properly appreciated the fact that he at least had some time between missions to be himself – well, as much as he could with John around.

Stop, what?

Before he could catch a disturbing and very _very_ weird thought Jemma whispered:

"If Fitz was here…" And then suddenly straightened and looking up at him with something akin to fear tried to pull away.

Grant _absolutely_ did not like fear in her eyes – especially, directed at him:

"Shh, Jemma, why don't we take a walk?" He rubbed soothing circles in her back and ushered her to the level where Raina's lab was located.

ooo

Raina gave him an amused once-over, then encouragingly smiled at Jemma and managed to sneak them in the storage closet in the lab – one thing Grant liked about her lab was that back of it was partly out of the way of cameras – including aforementioned closet.

It was small even for Jemma but with Grant things became more tense. In both senses.

"You miss him, don't you?" Jemma was still afraid but Grant had a good idea of what exactly.

"It's not something to be ashamed of. You were close, now you miss him."

Jemma bit her lip and finally looked up:

"I'm not supposed to. It was all a lie, anyway. Dr. Whitehall opened my eyes and gave me release by making me accept the truth."

Now, _this_ was something new.

"What do you mean – a lie?" He was starting to get a really terrible suspicion.

"They never cared about me – all this talk about team, friends, trust. I mean, they did but it wasn't enough to…I suppose, Fitz did, but in the end, we're all agents…and orders are orders…"

Terrible suspicion has begun turning into the fact.

"What happened, Jemma?"

She took a deep breath:

"Director Coulson left me – us – to die. I do understand – he assumed that Hydra agents would attack May and Tripp – he counted on it - and left us to conduct surveillance without backup because he needed it elsewhere. He calculated our capture and, presumably, death as low risk but an acceptable one nonetheless."

"And Dr. Daniel Whitehall explained to you how _Hydra understands importance of survival._ "

Jemma nodded, her eyes were full of tears but it was expression on her face that worried Grant.

"I want to live." She hissed it with such power in her voice as if to show she didn't care he would judge her for it. "I know that people like me, with potential and abilities like mine, are going to end up on the frontline of the war between SHIELD and Hydra. It's inevitable and no one's going to ask whether we want it or not."

"The least you can do is to choose the side wisely." Jemma nodded again.

Grant would have applauded Whitehall, if he didn't want to cut him open that much.

"Jemma," she lifted her eyes to him. "I understand. I'm not going to judge you for wanting to live. Ever."

She shivered and suddenly hugged him knocking something from the shelf in the process. Grant slowly and reluctantly put his arms around her. It was the second genuine and affectionate hug in his adult life.

ooo

The Santa Maria de las Flores was burnt down so Grant found himself in the priest's temporary apartment in downtown. With Raina.

It wasn't his fault, really. After he employed Jemma's help in destroying the symbols on the back of the painting without damaging it – involving salt, water and acetone of all things – Grant caught a plane to Florida and then he exited the airport Raina was waiting for him. As she put it she wanted to see him committing a good deed. And she _laughed._

Grant almost turned back but he wasn't going to allow Raina to have an upper hand any more than she already did.

The religious worker finally came home.

Bags with food went spilling on the floor but Grant thought that he was doing more good than he had to, so a little inconvenience for the priest wasn't an unwelcome sight.

The man tried to run to the door but Raina cut him off and he must have been really scared by unexpected visitors to actually back down from 5'3'' delicate figure. Not that Grant held any illusions about Raina's lack of lethality but her weapon was words not physical force.

Raina laughed and with black heavy lace veil (with flowers, what else?) covering entirety of her face it looked appropriately sinister.

The priest looked even more scared but still trying to be brave:

"Who are you? What do you want? If it's money, I don't have that much and most of it is for the rebuilding of the church, you can't take it…"

"We're not here to take anything from you." God, was he really ready to argue with potential robbers about three thousand dollars?

Grant stopped – could be saying God's name in vain (internally) in the presence of his servant considered as sin? Probably.

The thought amused Grant. He never believed in God or divine forces or their counterparts downstairs. Even in childhood. He realized very early that heaven and hell didn't exist and this life was the only one he was going to have.

It took him years and meeting John to realize that his life can be what he will make of it.

"We're here to return something of yours." Grant raised his hands in a placating manner and nodded to the table on the right.

The priest cautiously approached it and lifted the cloth hiding underneath it his parish's only treasure.

Only hope.

 _These_ were words that didn't leave Grant alone and convinced him to return the painting.

"It's…this is…" The poor guy had trouble speaking.

"Tell everyone and anyone that the back of the painting was destroyed." The man was alarmed but Grant didn't let him voice his apprehension. "The painting is more than fine. The little acid damage on the back is a small price, believe me."

"But why? I don't understand…" He reverently touched the edge.

Grant was uncomfortable seeing an emotion he never felt.

"Don't ask – you're better off not knowing."

Grant expected him to argue but he nodded, accepting it.

Grant walked to the door there Raina was pretending to be interested in the door frame and not the other occupants of the apartment.

"Thank you…"

Grant felt sick of this word:

"Don't."

The priest was puzzled to be stopped:

"Don't what? Express my gratitude towards you or…fell it?"

"Both." Sincere incomprehensibility crossed the man's features and Grant felt compelled to explain:

"People shouldn't be thanked for doing what any decent person would have done in their place."

Understanding replaced the expression on the priest's face:

"You don't consider yourself a decent person?"

Grant was amused enough to laugh. But it sounded hollow:

"I'm pretty sure that I can't be even called a proper human being and you're asking about decency?"

"Whatever you have done, you should know that it will be forgiven by Him, if you truly regret it."

Grant smirked:

"I don't believe in your god. Well, I don't believe in _anything._ "

 _Do you?_ Grant almost jerked in Raina's direction to check that it was her and not the voice in his head.

_You won't believe in other gods, then you already have one._

"It's difficult and hard way to live."

"You're not going to…" Grant waved his hand and mockingly continued:

"…convert me to your faith? Try to save my soul?"

"It's your choice. No one else's. I can't force you to believe but I can help to save you."

"You can't save people from themselves." Grant was sick of hearing that _everyone can be saved_ and that _everyone – whether it's one man or whole of mankind – is worth saving._ Just empty platitudes repeated by liars and hypocrites.

"No, you can't." Sudden agreement shocked Grant into silence. "No one can save us but ourselves. And no one may. But others can and should help."

Before Grant could have come up with scathing and cutting remark Raina grew tired of just watching:

"He believes he can't be saved. He believes he _isn't worthy_ of being saved." Grant almost heard how she smiled:

"He's afraid that he's a monster."

_Monster._

The word filled the whole room and Grant felt difficulty breathing.

The priest slowly drew near to Grant as if not wanting to spook a wild animal. Grant stiffened. The walls were closing in on him.

The man's hand touched his shoulder. Grant tensed in anticipation of pain.

"Even if you are one, you don't have to stay that way."

Grant inhaled deeply but amount of air filling his lungs wasn't enough. He took a breath after breath but he was suffocating.

He had to get away.

He crashed in the cupboard near the door, yanked it open on a second attempt and run.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Thank you all so much! I hope this chapter won't disappoint.  
> Thank you for your comments!
> 
> I have an exam next week – future chapter will be after that.  
> I hope you will enjoy eighth chapter.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything but probably plot :) - if you recognize something, it's probably not mine. Some phrases are lifted from the "Ragtag". All rights belong to their owners.
> 
> Cross-posted at fanfiction.net - s/11701788
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Then Grant finally paid attention to his surroundings he realized he went straight to the FBI office. Not increasing his speed he turned away and calmly walked in the opposite direction not bothering to keep away from the cameras.

It was a good thing that before meeting with the priest he put on a nano mask with some average Joe's face. No reason to bring to the guy any more danger than he already was in.

_He's afraid that he's a monster._

Grant forcefully took a deep breath, then held it and slowly released through the mouth.

Damn Raina.

_Even if you are one, you don't have to stay that way._

Don't think about it.

_He believes he can't be saved._

Don't…

_But you want to. You want to be saved. So, so desperately. Like that scared kid at the well._

Grant stumbled and started hyperventilating again. He had to lean on the wall to keep himself upright.

Damn Raina and her mind games. And stupid priest talking about the things he _doesn't understand._

And Jemma who was _stupid_ enough to get caught, she and her Fitz!

And Skye. Oh God, Skye. So brave, so naïve, so _stupid_! What was the _meaning_ in her reckless and selfless attempts to protect her people? She was almost killed, captured and _the things_ they would have done to her…

Why did she insist on helping her so-called friends? Then they weren't even _here._ They cut their losses with the teleporter, didn't they?

And still she stayed. She was going to try to find something. And will be captured again.

So much loyalty. What good it ever was for?

_Where does all that trust and loyalty lead? Abandoned in the woods or dumped at the pound?_

Grant shuddered and squeezed his temples.

"…are you alright, sir?" Someone touched his arm _and Grant didn't even notice then they got so close._

He violently jerked away and startled a teenage girl.

"Do you need help? I can call an ambulance if you feel unwell." She sounded so genuine that Grant wanted to believe her, wanted to imagine just for a second that someone could be concerned about him. Could care enough to _be_ concerned.

"No, I'm fine, just a dizziness, is all." Grant pushed off from the concrete wall.

Girl obviously didn't buy his assurances but nodded:

"If you say so, sir." She hesitantly bounced on the balls of her feet. "Then I'll be going…nice to meet you, sir." She awkwardly smiled and started going away, putting her phone in the jeans back pocket.

"Nice to meet you, too." He said to her back.

She turned and flashed him less awkward smile:

"Take care of yourself, mister."

ooo

Matthew Kang was more alert than Grant expected from a federal agent but his training couldn't compare to SHIELD's. Or Hydra's, for that matter.

Waiting for him to regain consciousness, Grant looked over his place. Neat and clean, photos of his parents, army buddies, college friends – nothing out of the ordinary, if a little bit Spartan.

Grant picked up the photo with a teenage boy and a dog.

"His name was Rusty." Hoarse voice almost startled Grant. He returned the framed picture to the shelf. Something needed to be done with this loss of awareness.

Agent Kang looked annoyed, wary and calculating. Trying to understand what his visitor wanted?

Good luck, _Grant_ didn't know what he wanted.

"I had a dog once. Buddy." Grant found himself saying unexpectedly. "Smart. And loyal, too. First friend I ever had."

The agent spoke and Grant almost winced in sympathy at the harsh vibrating sounds accompanying the man's words:

"What happened to him?"

"I shot him."

As expected agent didn't like this answer. However, his next question surprised Grant:

"Why?"

It was such a simple question, really. But never before anyone whom Grant met wanted to know "why" he did something.

"I had to prove that attachment wasn't a weakness."

"Did you?"

Grant let himself sigh:

"I'm starting to feel that it's a useless fight. I just can't stop feeling." Nor did he want to.

"What are you doing here?" Did he give up trying to figure it out?

"I'm not here to kill you."

"Am I supposed to be grateful for that?" Seriously, he could dial down the venom.

"If I wanted you dead, you wouldn't have survived your injury." Although, Grant easily could have killed him – there were just too many vital components in the neck to be sure any strike won't be lethal.

"Should I be grateful for that, too? Or maybe the family of one agent who bled to death from the bullet in the shoulder should? Or another three agents who are in for a _very_ long recovery and one of them may be forced to retire?"

That's why Grant shouldn't have come. It was easier if you didn't know for sure how many people you hurt. And didn't meet their friends and loved ones.

And also why he considered a notion of shooting in non-vital areas a ridiculous and wishful thinking. Too many variables – you cannot be sure that just a scratch won't kill.

If you're shooting, know you're going to cause someone's death.

"I know it's not worth anything, but it wasn't personal, it was a job."

"Save your excu…"

"It's not an excuse. It's an explanation." Grant was too drained to argue. "If I wanted to come up with an excuse, I would have told you how it was unavoidable situation and spun the tale so you would come to believe that I had no other choice and really am just a victim of circumstances."

He paused trying to get his breathing under control. When did he get agitated?

"It is my fault. Your agents' injuries and death of one of them are my responsibility. I'm not denying that I belong in prison."

Belonged since sixteen.

"But that's the problem, isn't it? Until recently, SHIELD didn't care _what_ I am as long as the people I killed and deceived were the ones they deemed as acceptable targets."

Agent was quiet but Grant wasn't saying all of this to him. It just kept getting out.

"Did Director Coulson tell you how they are the "good guys" and you should let them do whatever they think is necessary because, obviously, only they know what is best and can make the hard choices for the "greater good?"

By his scowling Grant got his confirmation.

"You didn't buy his righteous speech? Good for you."

Grant came near the agent who stiffened on the couch trying to hide that he almost extricated himself from the bonds.

"But he certainly told you that you should stay out of SHILED's war with Hydra. And that's where I agree with him. People don't know _what_ world SHIELD and Hydra live in. What you consider fantasy is their reality. Don't get in it. Let them destroy each other."

ooo

In the foyer of agent Kang's apartment Grant saw Skye. He almost walked in the wall instead of door.

Changing his direction he came up behind her as she was charming one of the inhabitants into sharing where handsome agent Kang lived. Was it true that he was wounded in the terrorist attack at the FBI building?

Grant internally scoffed. Did they really had to blow it out of proportion? Even SHIELD's extraction of their director went unseen – simple bureaucracy mix-up with the transfer during which prisoners escaped.

"Hi, Ms. Perkins, still disturbing the good citizens' lives?" Grant flashed badge too fast to see the credentials inside. "FBI, sorry, miss, noisy journalists, you understand." His winning smile wasn't going to work with this face but his tone sure did.

The middle-aged woman straightened and smiled:

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I almost told this viper there Mr. Kang lives…"

"Don't worry. Everything is under control. Good evening, miss." He held Skye by her arm and dragged her from the building.

"Look, Mr. I-am-federal-agent, I don't know what game are you playing at, but if you don't let me go I'm going to start screaming and we'll see who…"

"Oh, Eve, aren't you glad to see me?"

He let her go and waited.

"Wall-…wait, my favorite terrorist!" She looked around as if to be sure that there were people and she could cry for help if necessary. Grant felt insulted but he supposed "favorite terrorist" was better than "tool bag"…

"Killed many people today? Stole any other relics lately?"

…or maybe not.

"Why do you even think it was me?"

"I don't know that many T-1000s but I have a feeling that walking in _the FBI office_ alone and getting out twenty minutes later with the priceless masterpiece while whole squads of agents run around is at least a little difficult for most of them."

"I am flattered that you have such a high opinion of my abilities, Skye."

"It wasn't a compliment, Robot." She scoffed at him and turned around.

But Grant wasn't ready for her to go. His mood improved in the last three minutes as if this whole evening didn't happen.

"I thought I told you that your teleporting friend is on another continent and you can't rescue him. Why don't you return to your other friends?"

"Maybe because I can't!" She pressed her hands to her mouth while her eyes widened in shock and started running away.

Grant reached her in a few seconds and grabbed by arm. She spun around and hit him in the chest:

"Let me go!"

Damn, people were going to take notice.

He released her almost immediately and backed off raising hands and generally radiating harmless and peaceful appearance:

"How about we talk somewhere and I answer your questions. You have many of them, don't you?"

She suspiciously looked at him and Grant tried not to fidget.

"Fine, but I'm choosing the place as fool of people as possible."

ooo

The mall was _too_ full of people as far as Grant was concerned. And had too many exits and open areas. To say nothing about cameras. Did Skye forget that her picture was in the Hydra's reports?

Sitting at the table in the food court Grant was nervous. He had to convince Skye to drop her self-appointed rescue mission but how to do it?

"You said the base is on another continent, which one?" Grant almost groaned. She was too obstinate for her own continued survival.

"Europe. And no, I don't know anything else." Concretely. "And as I told you not even SHIELD would be able…"

Huh, that just might work. And if it had the added bonus of giving Grant the reason to keep seeing her, well, never have one reason to do something then you can have more.

"I can train you." Her horrified expression wounded Grant. Really, it did.

She gaped at him and while she tried to come up with words no doubt expressing her indignation at his utter and unabashed presumption he continued:

"You want to storm that base? _Fine._ But at least don't make a pathetic attempt. With your current abilities – and I'm not talking about _super_ natural ones because, obviously, you haven't been through the mist yet – the only thing you will achieve is put the Hydra guards in danger of laughing themselves to death. And no, your hacking skills can – and will – be incredibly useful but not at the actual assault itself."

Skye leaned back in her chair and crossing arms scoffed:

"Why so sudden charity?"

"I don't want you dead."

"Why? Why do you care?"

Grant flinched. He didn't care about her, why would he…

_You already do. Hydra agents killed, stolen files, desperate rush to Washington…admit it._

He clenched his teeth and forcefully exhaled:

"Just accept that I do."

She skeptically looked him over and wryly smiled:

"Sure you don't want to get me in bed?"

He barely kept his face impassive.

Skye uncrossed her arms, slowly took off her jacket and leaned to the table "accidentally" bringing attention to her chest:

"You thought I wouldn't notice how you look at me?"

She seductively smirked and batted her eyelashes at him:

"Like what you see?"

Grant managed to keep his eyes on her face and not…lower. Damn, just _how_ did he look at her?

He admitted that he found her attractive ( _very_ attractive) but never before any woman evoked in him something comparable to what he was feeling now.

It wasn't just her body he wanted (although, he won't say "no") but he felt… _lighter_ every time he saw her, as if her mere presence created the barrier between him ( _them_ ) and the rest of the world.

He forgot about missions, orders, SHIELD, Hydra – he forgot what and who he was. And it was heady feeling – this illusory freedom. Like he was under water and suddenly could fully breathe without struggling for every gulp.

And her reactions – so unrestrained, honest, _vivid._ She was talking to him without any fear even though she knew who he was and what he was capable of.

At their first meeting he tried to explain to Bobbi that her lack of fear towards him was liberating, and that was what he liked so much in his interactions with Jemma, too. But it wasn't enough. Bobbi was a specialist, cut from the same cloth as him. However much he liked and respected her, he won't ever be able to trust her. If needs be, she will make a hard call.

He understood and wasn't going to hold it against her when the time came. But still he longed to have the real thing. As one he saw between Jemma and Fitz. Before.

And Jemma. Oh, Jemma. Whatever trust and affection he managed to instill in her towards him – it was a lie, because if she was herself, she wouldn't have ever looked at him like a friend. It was necessary to help her, but it couldn't be real.

He didn't want to be alone. Especially after he had a taste of the opposite. He was sick of emptiness inside him and if anyone can fill it…he hoped it will be Skye. He saw something in her – _familiar_ – that same fear to be left alone and desire to belong.

He hoped that she can understand him. Because John said that no one aside from him will ever be able to do it. And then he left Grant.

Grant was sick of being left.

"What if I do?"

Skye's over-the-top flirtatious act abruptly stopped and she narrowed her eyes at him:

"Don't even think that I will sink so low as to sleep with the Nazi scumbag killing people for a living."

Grant laughed. He tried not to but _this_ – this was hilarious:

"I won't touch the Nazi thing – it's useless to explain what Hydra is actually about if the one thing you noticed was _this._ " Grant ignored her disbelieving huff. "But the part about killing – weren't you and your teleporting friend the reason why seven people are dead?"

Skye stiffened.

"Well, I suppose it doesn't count because you weren't the one who caused the crush. You were just along for the ride. And it's not like terrorists are people, is it? You cleaned the world from the dirt, world must be grateful for your selfless service."

She clenched her jaw but didn't say anything.

"How long did it take for your new friends to convince you that death of enemy combatants is necessity?" Grant slowly smiled and gently ended. "For the good of your people."

She crossed her arms and straightened in the seat:

"It _is_ for my people – which is more than _you_ can say."

"Oh, Skye, you're wrong." He leaned back. "Everything I do is either for my survival or survival of the people I care about."

The _one_ person – even if he didn't appreciate what Grant have done for him it didn't stop Grant from caring.

"I'm not going to ask for anything in return for my help. I promise."

She defiantly glared at him:

"Why should I trust you?"

"You shouldn't. Don't trust anybody, ever, especially me." Words spilled out before Grant could register what he was saying.

Skye mulishly continued glaring at him but he could see how some tension eased from her shoulders.

By being honest about his untrustworthiness he subconsciously made her believe in his trustworthiness. Reverse psychology at its best.

The only problem was – these words weren't his.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Thank you all so much! I hope this chapter won't disappoint.  
> Thank you for your comments!  
> I hope you will enjoy ninth chapter.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything but probably plot :) - if you recognize something, it's probably not mine. All rights belong to their owners.  
> CDC - Centers for Disease Control and Prevention  
> CTD - FBI Counterterrorism Division  
> Cross-posted at fanfiction.net - s/11701788  
> Thank you for reading!

"…and I said that it's not possible to re-create the effects of an alien technology without actually having access to the object in question and Dr. Whitehall decided to send me with the Obelisk to help Dr. Lingenfelter." Jemma was almost bursting from excitement.

Grant was tempted to ask how Dr. Lingenfelter reacted to this news but didn't want to crush Jemma's enthusiasm:

"No good deed goes unpunished, Jemma."

Jemma rolled her eyes at him while Bobbi sniggered:

"Sure, that's why she's getting to Philadelphia, practically on a vacation, while we stuck here day in, day out."

"Speak for yourself – _I_ get to go out." Now it was Bobbi's turn to roll her eyes:

"Yes, pretty boy, because of your last strolls _someone_ is in a foul mood. And unlike you I'm the one who has to work with him then he's like that."

Grant snorted – as if Bakshi's bad tactical decisions were somehow Grant's fault. Although, he would need to do something to stroke the arrogant bastard's ego – no sense in making an enemy.

Like Hydra did with Navy – Grant understood the necessity of the public spectacle for intimidating one's enemies even if he personally found it ineffective. But testing the experimental weapon of mass destruction and therefore leaving the possibility of your targets surviving…Did Whitehall really have to do two-in-one?

Now Navy (and Pentagon) was going to be incensed.

"I thought I told you not to call me that." What was it with him and nicknames anyway? Skye seemingly delighted in coming up with new ones…

"Sure you did, beautiful."

…like Bobbi.

Raina was amused, Jemma giggled and even kid briefly smiled.

Just look at him – clown extraordinaire.

But Grant unexpectedly felt warmth settling in.

ooo

"Better admit defeat," Grant struggled but Bobby's hold was painful. If it was necessary, he could have pushed through the pain but this was a spar not a fight.

Still she could be a little less smug.

"Come on, pretty boy..."

Grant's phone ringed.

Bobby released him:

"Saved by the bell."

Grant didn't dignify it with a response and pulled out the phone from the bag.

Caller unknown. Who could it be? Only handful of people knew this number.

"...swear to God I'll drop it and everyone in this room is dead..." Hysterical male voice.

"In a thousand mile radius!" Jemma's voice. What…

"Yeah, in a thousand miles around! Got it?!"

"Calm down, kid! And you don't move, traitor!"

"I maybe a traitor but I am at least not a brainless expendable moron like you, Tripp!"

Fuck, no. SHIELD.

But, wait, yes – they can take Jemma back...

"Can't we just put a bullet in her and..."

"Hey, I'm _right here_ with a damn mass murder toxin..."

"Toxicant, it's called toxicant!"

...or not.

Grant turned to Bobby:

"The research facility in Philadelphia is under attack from SHIELD. I need this call recorded, secured line and files on every member of the facility's staff."

ooo

"It wasn't enough that you got FBI involved, now it's CDC too?" Bakshi was going to be a problem.

"I thought that not allowing SHIELD to take the Obelisk and toxicant derived from it was the priority. Was I wrong?"

"You mean, not allowing SHIELD to take Dr. Simmons?" Bakshi _was_ already a problem.

"The same Dr. Simmons who made a breakthrough concerning the Obelisk?" Bakshi looked appropriately pissed off but Whitehall intervened:

"I assume you have a plan, agent Ward?"

"Yes, sir."

"You have a full freedom of actions, agent Ward." Grant didn't like Whitehall's smile.

Full freedom implied terrible repercussions in case of a failure.

ooo

Jemma was stuck in the laboratory with lethal substance, slowly bleeding to death agent and another one – twenty year old kid – as the only protection from her former teammates.

The Hydra research facility was located in the office building near the river and was already surrounded. CDC, FBI, police...reporters. Damn it, not them.

"Agent Young?" Grey-haired man in the Navy's white uniform – captain – and two federal agents – middle-aged man and slightly younger woman – turned around. What a company and all for a little Hydra laboratory.

Before the FBI agent could answer Grant the sailor - hopefully, not those SEALs' buddy – aggressively charged in:

"Captain Walton, who are you?" Nope, Grant should have known his luck.

"FBI, CTD, agent Ramsey. Agent Young, why there's Navy and NCIS present?"

Agent Young glared daggers at two men:

"There's a dispute about jurisdiction…"

"These bastards are Hydra and it makes this Navy's case…"

"NCIS, not Navy's, Capta…"

Grant interrupted as arrogantly as he could:

"Letting your desire for revenge get in the way? I expected better from a decorated soldier as you, Captain." A touch of condescension. "This is _domestic_ terrorism which brings it in  _our_ jurisdiction. If you have any objections, take them up with your superiors."

Grant really hoped that technical support would be able to intercept the call.

The old soldier stalked off but soon he came back. Even more maddened but a little cowed.

"So, are we taking over?"

Captain set his jaw but nodded.

Well, Bakshi's unbearable self-conceit was occasionally useful.

"Thank you for your cooperation, sir."

ooo

"Have you talked to them?"

Agent Young moved closer:

"Yes, we did, but so far we got only explanations that they're not terrorists and demands for us to leave them to handle the situation."

And the situation was difficult. SHIELD captured the facility suddenly and practically without the resistance. It spelled very big problems with security but finding the leak was Bobby's job, not his.

His job was getting Jemma out before her former friends became too tempted to kill her, threat of the biological contamination notwithstanding. And getting the Obelisk, of course.

He will think about utter absurdity of Jemma's former colleagues' claims later.

"Call them."

Time to see how good SHIELD agents were at negotiating.

ooo

"…so, you're saying that you're not members of terrorist organization known as SHIELD."

"Yes, we are, I mean, we're not terrorists!" Another British accent, what was it with SHIELD and British recruits?

"Then, you're not acting against the United States of America..."

"Of course not! We're trying to help you…"

"…and breaking the laws of the same country? Like armed attack, taking hostages, resisting law enforcement and refusing to surrender…"

"Arghhh! We're trying to help you!" Grant decided that SHIELD agent was appropriately riled up:

"How?"

Stream of frustrated explanations abruptly stopped:

"What?"

Grant suppressed a sigh:

"You're trying to help. By keeping the whole building hostage and threatening a biological attack."

"Look, we're not the ones threatening to drop the tube with the stuff that caused so many dead – the _Hydra_ agents – who locked themselves in the room in the _Hydra_ building full of other _Hydra_ agents whom we captured – _are._ "

"Okay. Suppose I believe you."

Pause was almost palpable. Agent Young looked ready to have an aneurism at Grant's negotiating technique.

"Really?" So much incredulity – as if Grant was _lying._

"How about you start reciprocating my trust by giving us all of your…arrestees?" Grant thought that maybe "prisoners" would have been more precise. No, "arrestees" was good.

"Er, well…" It was a simple question. Grant lost enough time already:

"Don't be an idiot – you can't possibly transport all of them and even if we let you, you can't possibly have resources to hold them." Except in the Fridge but it was under worldwide blockade which made it inaccessible.

Agent Young made a strangled noise.

"I thought you said you weren't Hydra, so if you give me your arrestees – and we verify that they're Hydra – I will be more open to the idea that you and they are different organizations."

The call suddenly disconnected and another voice introduced itself:

"Hi, sorry to bother, agent Ramsey."

Finally.

"Who's this?"

"I'm Phil Coulson, Director of SHIELD. You were talking about the transfer of Hydra operatives?"

ooo

After lab personnel was released in "FBI"'s custody and immediately driven away Grant wrangled permission to enter and speak directly to the "crazy kid and traitorous bitch". Grant repeatedly told himself that at least spiteful SHIELD didn't let Jemma's name slip.

It didn't quell his rage.

According to the conversations so far recorded through Jemma's call to Grant present company included agent Triplett and former mercenaries Hunter and Idaho. No Cavalry in sight. Grant had nothing against that concerning her reputation.

"I want your people out of this corridor." Grant signaled Hydra agents to take positions.

Agent Triplett was not agreeable:

"Are you insane? You can't storm the room, this stuff can kill people for miles around!"

"And you believed a former agent of your organization - a _traitor?_ " Grant derisively huffed. "The experimental substance which caused deaths of the Navy personnel was administered through the drink and you think that Hydra already perfected it and created an aerosol form so potent as to present a threat to the whole city?"

As a matter of fact, _they could have_ and no threat on such scale should ever be dismissed as Grant was trying to get SHIELD to do but he really only needed to talk to Jemma without noisy eavesdroppers.

"We're going with you," foolhardy and heroic as advertised. Grant barely stopped himself from grinding his teeth:

"No, you're not, unless you want our deal with your self-appointed director of unauthorized paramilitary organization disturbing actual federal agencies' work to be called off." Grant met SHIELD agent's stare and hold it until annoying British guy bodily intervened between them:

"Hey, guys, don't get into a fight, we're all on the same side and want the same thing. Can't we just calm down and pretend to be friends?"

"Then keep your _friend_ away from this hallway, _friend._ " Grant bit it out with hopefully not too much venom and stalked off.

For his immense relief after a bit of arguing and a lot of whispered bitching by comms they relented and cleared the area.

Grant nodded to the operatives and they started spreading out – changing their previous positions to prepare for covering the retreat. He didn't believe for a moment that SHIELD left them without surveillance and they would be made as soon as Grant convinced Jemma to open the door.

ooo

"Jemma," Grant turned off the voice synthesizer and knocked.

"Go to hell, Tripp!"

"I'm not Tripp, Jemma. I thought you'd be glad I'm here - I came as soon as I could..."

The door opened and Grant got an armful of sobbing with relief Jemma. He briefly hugged her back - they didn't have much time:

"We need to hurry."

She nodded and wiped at her face smearing it with blood from her hands - results of her efforts to keep agent Correa alive.

Hydra operatives already started packing chemicals and Grant was here to get Jemma and the Obelisk out not to save critically injured woman. But the blood which soaked Jemma's sweater and shirt told Grant that she wouldn't understand how wounded soldier would hinder them.

He could hear the gunfire - SHIELD figured it out.

_They didn't have time._

But Grant said:

"We're taking agent Correa with us."

ooo

They were almost at the top level of the building then one of the agents informed Grant that he lost signal from the detonator - SHIELD found the explosives placed in the case of a takeover.

If Grant let research on the Obelisk fall into someone's hands, he would better be dead - _very_ dead.

"Continue with the plan."

"Grant?" He turned to Jemma and smiled:

"Don't worry, I'll make it back in time."

If not, he can try his luck with the FBI and SEALs outside.

Assuming he will make it through SHIELD and won't blow up himself.

Piece of cake.

ooo

Setting timer on three minutes Grant exited the room and shot at the electronic lock.

He was running up the stairs then sudden movement on his right alerted him to an attacker. Gun went flying out of his hand.

Grant ducked under the punch but his side flared with pain and he missed the second one.

They stumbled in the hallway and he barely blocked Cavalry's strikes - damn, he thought she wasn't here.

She kicked him and he again was too damn slow - he broke through the door and crashed on the floor among wooden flinders and debris.

He rolled over avoiding her hit and grabbing a chair caught her under knees. She summersaulted while he scrambled upright.

He didn't wait for her to regain balance and lunged. She dodged and despite himself Grant admitted her grace was mesmerizing.

But he would have been more appreciative if this deadly precision wasn't aimed at him. Especially when he already went through dozen SHIELD agents.

She blocked his next hit and capturing his arm in a lock bashed his head against the desk. Two times.

Grant pushed through pain and dizziness and kicked her leg. She backed and grabbing his vest fall back throwing him over and ending on top. He just stopped her hand with a knife from reaching his throat but her weight on his broken rib was weakening his resistance.

The knife was trembling while Grant struggled to angle it away.

Three gunshots in succession dropped agent May and Grant thrown her off.

Jemma was frozen in the doorway but rushed to him as he tried to stand up.

Grant noted that all shots landed straight in the vest and agent was alive even conscious but he had bigger worries than finishing her off:

"We have less than two minutes left!" Grant ignored nausea and grabbing the gun from Jemma's hand hurried to the stairs.

They had too many levels left to the roof but Jemma stopped him:

"The windows on the southeast corner - McBraid got the quinjet there!" She tapped her ear and Grant didn't waste time for questions having recognized the name as the Hydra agent who was stuck with Jemma through the entirety of the today's ordeal.

Getting to the southeast corner Grant shot at the ceiling-to-the-floor windows and taking Jemma's hand jumped.

They landed on the still cloaked surface of the quinjet and Grant realized that _no one ever_ before Jemma came back for him.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Thank you all so much! I'm sorry for the wait but this was very tough to write. I hope this chapter won't disappoint.  
> Thank you for your comments!  
> I will probably post one chapter per week – increased in size – because holiday's over, working days are back.
> 
> I hope you will enjoy tenth chapter.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything but probably plot :) - if you recognize something, it's probably not mine. All rights belong to their owners.
> 
> Some phrases are lifted from season 2 episode 5 "A Hen in the Wolf House" and season 2 episode 6 "A Fractured House".  
> "Глупый мальчишка" from Russian "Silly boy".  
> Ecclesall is in Sheffield, England.
> 
> Cross-posted at fanfiction.net - s/11701788
> 
> Thank you for reading!

Broken rib and generally shitty state of well-being put Grant in a position there Raina walking through the infirmary's doors made him audibly groan.

Raina pouted:

"Aren't you glad to see me?"

Grant tried to fight his initial reaction and came up with:

"If you're here to gloat, know that it's low to hit someone when they're down."

"As if _you_ never did that," Raina raised an eyebrow and sat in a chair while Grant had to admit he _wasn't_ above such behavior.

"I'm not here to delight in your loss to the Cavalry." She smiled and Grant had to remind himself that no one aside from Bobbi was brave enough to laugh at him having needed scientist's help. The same one who repeatedly failed her field qualifications.

It's not like Grant cared what other people thought about him. He was _grateful_ for Jemma's intervention.

" _And_ I'm not going to ask how it felt then Jemma Simmons ran to your rescue." Raina's smile turned sharp. "I'm more interested in what do you know about agent McBraid?"

Grant just _knew_ it would mean trouble but...

"I've read his file."

Raina looked ready to start jumping in her seat and clapping:

"You should talk to him. It's such a coincidence - I could have said it's _fate._ "

Grant fought the impulse to turn around and hide under the pillow:

"One day I'm going to figure out what game you're playing."

Raina's face unexpectedly softened and Grant was tempted to believe it was genuine:

"And on that day you're going to realize that I'm only trying to help you."

Grant snorted:

"You mean yourself."

She shrugged and didn't deny it:

"If helping you helps me... well, a girl should think about herself."

Before he could have pried something less vague from her they were interrupted by Donnie:

"You have to do something!"

The kid looked like he ran at least several miles.

"What happened?"

"It's Jemma! Agent Morse is on the way to the labs to arrest her!"

"Donnie, _slow down_ and start from the beginning."

ooo

Grant finally succeeded in scaring a doctor enough to get out of his clutches then every single computer monitor in the infirmary flashed with the picture of Jemma with a small receiver in hands. Grant had no doubt it was the exact copy of the ones found in Dr. Turgeon's desk.

He left the room at a run not bothering to look at Raina. She knew what to do if it all went to hell.

In the corridor closest to Jemma's lab he saw her trying to get away from a security.

"Stand down."

The guard froze in his place while Jemma hastily hid behind him.

As if on cue Bobbi with flanking her agents appeared in the hallway's end.

"Agent Morse, care to explain?"

Bobbi looked pissed off and full in her hard-ass-agent-slash-bitch mode:

"Dr. Simmons is under arrest for treason. As I suspected Dr. Turgeon didn't work alone."

"What other evidence beside a photo so conveniently sent to every device in this building do you have?"

Bobbi hold up her hands and with apologetic expression started:

"I know she's your friend and it's hard to imagine she's such a good actress..."

Grant interrupted:

"I hope you remember that while Dr. Whitehall and Bakshi are away, technically, I'm senior agent here."

Bobbi sighed:

"Don't do this. You're allowing your emotions..."

"It's not about sentimentality, Bobbi. Jemma Simmons is quite frankly _not capable_ of betraying Dr. Whitehall. Then he returns, he'll confirm it. Now how about you lock Jemma up in her quarters - under constant surveillance - and look for other possible moles?"

Grant realized her answer before she said it out loud and reacted.

He kicked the nearest guard making him stumble in the others and toppling them down. The guard got a kick in the face, the next one managed to scramble upright – Grant blocked his arm and thrown him over the shoulder.

The hit in the kidneys dropped him on the floor. Grant rolled on the back despite the piercing pain.

"Stop this, Grant!"

He kicked Bobbi in the knee and tried to stand up but she recovered faster – and tripped him. He went down again – hard – but managed to drag her with him, too.

She punched him in the face once, twice but Grant grabbed her tight and having trapped her left arm and leg pushed up – rotating them over.

He sat on her diaphragm:

"Just listen, Bobbi…"

She bucked up her hips causing him to pitch forward on his arms. Grant rolled through the fall not waiting for her to complete a combination and got up.

Bobbi jumped but Grant attacked not giving her time to get her batons out – he didn't want to be electrocuted _ever again_ – Romanoff's bracelets were still fresh in his memory. He clinched her and thrown right in the wall. She hit her head and stretched out unconscious on the floor.

The last Hydra operative raised his hands and closed eyes. Grant would have laughed at the sight if his body wasn't on fire. Still he couldn't leave potential hostile behind and having knocked the agent out picked up his gun.

Turning to Jemma who stood wide-eyed by the wall he took her by the elbow:

"Play along." She mechanically nodded.

They entered the elevator and Grant pushed the button to the first floor.

The doors opened in the lobby and Grant dragged Jemma out trying to make it look as if by force:

"Tell agent Morse that I'm escorting Dr. Simmons."

Guards at the security desk nodded and Grant quickened his steps despite Jemma's stumbling.

They almost made it through the doors then the guards stirred. Grant sharply turned around moving Jemma behind him and aimed the gun at Hydra agents:

"Are you _really_ ready to open fire at me?" They nervously looked at each other but didn't lower their weapons. " _Think_ about it."

They stood indecisive until one of them dropped the gun on the floor and raised his arms. The rest followed suit.

Grant rushed out of the building keeping Jemma before him. He needed to get her away and _fast_ but his car was in the parking lot and he just never planned for something like _that_ – damn, he had to come up with some sort of plan right now…

The SUV drove out of the underground garage and halted before them tires screeching. The front door opened and agent McBraid shouted:

"Get inside!"

ooo

"Not that I'm not grateful and all but why did you help us?" The only free room in a motel which Grant deemed acceptable for the time being had a single bed currently occupied by Jemma. He and Hydra agent were talking in the bathroom trying not to wake her.

"One lady told me that Dr. Simmons was in trouble, sir, so…"

Grant didn't bother clarifying if "lady" was in the flower dress. But he asked "why", not "how".

"And you rushed to her rescue like a knight in a shining armor, right?"

He nodded.

Wasn't he supposed to be afraid of Grant? Damn, Hydra operatives needed some remedial training.

"You do realize that you kind of acted against Hydra? At least it'll look so until Dr. Whitehall returns and I'll explain everything to him." McBraid stiffened. Damn, he was afraid of Whitehall but not Grant? Grant was insulted and the fact that he too was afraid of Whitehall didn't matter.

"Dr. Simmons is valuable to us and that's why I helped, sir."

It would have sounded more believable if he didn't look so intensely at Grant when he was speaking.

"How about you repeat it? And now with the feeling as if you're saying the truth, agent McBraid." Grant's patience was at the end. And the bruises all over his body didn't do his mood any good:

"When you lie to people try not to stare at them too hard."

Agent was silent for several seconds and then said:

"Dr. Simmons saved Eva's life and I want to return the favor, sir."

Eva Correa was mentioned in his file as the one responsible for bringing ex-PJ in Hydra and was named "the most important figure" in his psychological evaluation.

"Haven't you already done that then you got us out from Philadelphia day ago?"

Confusion crossed his features for a moment and then he set his jaw straightening in a parade rest:

"Sir, may I make a statement?"

Grant almost sighed – typical former military:

"Yes, agent."

"We shouldn't leave our own behind, sir." So much passion but the problem was…

"You're not in the Air Force anymore." Although SHIELD kind of pretended it applied to them too. "You're not part of the military _at all,_ agent. You're _Hydra_ and it makes you an enemy of the majority of the world's governments and in particular, of the United States."

Agent stubbornly argued:

"We're still a paramilitary organization and there should be integrity…"

"Integrity?" Was he for real? "What part of "Hydra is a _criminal terrorist_ paramilitary organization" did you miss?"

McBraid suddenly looked Grant in the eyes and angrily asked:

"When why have you ordered Eva evacuated? Do you think I'm that stupid to not realize that she slowed us down? Why did you do it when we're just a cannon fodder?" He paused to breathe and continued:

"And why are you here, hiding Dr. Simmons? Haven't you seen the photo? Hydra doesn't tolerate traitors."

Grant closed the distance between them and hissed:

"Jemma Simmons is not a traitor to Hydra." She couldn't be one because she never was loyal to them in the first place.

ooo

Grant knew that food from vending machines wasn't a good substitute for real thing but Jemma's mechanical chewing was worrying. As was the fact that she didn't say a word since yesterday's disaster.

"McBraid," agent looked up from his own meal. "You should watch TV. Really loudly."

He glanced at Jemma and quietly moved from the table. The news channel's noise filled the room.

Jemma continued staring ahead.

"Earth to Jemma," no changes. Grant snapped his fingers before her face. She winced and turned to him. "Finally. I think we need to talk." He nodded to the bathroom.

Jemma put away her crumpled chocolate bar and stood straightening her clothes.

Grant closed the door behind them. The TV volume went up considerably while Jemma turned away and started to fidget with the motel's scarce toiletries.

"I don't think you're the mole."

She still stood with her back to him but said:

"How you can be sure? After all you told me yourself the reasons it could be me."

"Because Dr. Whitehall will not be pleased with you if that's the case." She froze. "And you don't want him to be displeased, don't you, Jemma?"

She turned to face him. Her right hand's fingers were white with how tightly she was clutching her left wrist.

"I...I'm not..." She lifted her head up and blinked several times. "I'm not a traitor."

She made it _so_ easy.

"Is that true? You betrayed SHIELD, an organization you were in for _your entire adult life._ " She flinched. "Haven't you dedicated almost a decade to it - hundreds of inventions, projects? All this time, this effort, this _potential_ \- for _saving_ people. And now you're in _Hydra._ Don't you find it strange, Jemma?"

She was breathing fast and her eyes were wide.

"But it gets even _more_ mind-blowing - you spent _months_ on Phil Coulson's dream team, in the field - risking your life for them - hell, you jumped out of the plane to protect them."

She was trembling and Grant noticed blood tricking down her hand where she dug her nails too deep breaking the skin.

"You betrayed your entire team."

Jemma whimpered and pressed her palm to the mouth trying to hold the sobs.

"You betrayed Fitz."

The low keening wail escaped from behind her shaking fingers and she slid down to the tiles catching her elbow on the bathtub's edge without even noticing.

Grant ruthlessly stomped out the shame building up inside and crouched next to her. He pried her hands away from her face as gently as he could and ignoring her half-suppressed, half-hysterical sobs tipped her chin up.

"Tell me why, Jemma. Why did you do it? Tell me how it started."

She inhaled but couldn't quite do it all the way. It took her minutes to be able to breathe without sobbing and eventually she said:

"We - me a-and...and Fitz - were cornered and we, we jumped in the river. I tried to keep him in sight - I always was swimming better than him but I...I lost him and I searched and searched but..." Jemma looked at him with so much guilt that he had to consciously keep his own breathing even. "And then Hydra agents pulled me out of the water."

She was silent for almost fifteen minutes.

"They brought me to HQ and I met Dr. Whitehall. Everything became clear. I found the purpose." She rubbed her eyes and continued:

"I had to show Dr. Whitehall that I appreciated the second chance he's given me. So I brought agents to SHIELD's base - in Canada... I never truly liked that place - underground, with those _pictures_ changing according to the time of day outside..." Grant heard about Providence and how _former_ agent Parker fucked up the base capture. He should have realized it was Jemma's intel that led Hydra to it.

She smiled but it was bitter and tired:

"SHIELD, Hydra - it all quite silly, you know, trying to _take over_ the world instead of...instead of studying it. _Finding answers_ \- that's what matters. And even if I'm not the most loyal Hydra agent as long as our goals are the same - scientific discovery - I will be loyal."

Grant knew his next words were going to hurt even more but it needed to be done:

"Loyal to _what,_ Jemma - an organization that was ready to condemn you without proving your fault? What do you think they have done to Kenneth? Without even knowing for sure that someone didn't set him up." Jemma shivered. "Or do you think that Bobbi wouldn't've done the same to you - because you're good acquaintances?"

Jemma quickly shook her head:

"Dr. Whitehall would've..."

"He would have what - intervened? Stopped it? Saved you?"

She started breathing fast again and shook her head even more vehemently:

"Yes, he would have, I'm valuable, very valuable to Hydra..."

"And how Hydra showed it? By sending you _alone_ to Donnie who was a little too much jumpy? By allowing you to get captured by SHIELD and your former team which seemed happy to shoot you without any hesitation?"

Tears spilled again but Grant couldn't stop. Not now.

"You told me you want to live, Jemma. That you were expendable to SHIELD and you couldn't stay with them. What about Hydra?"

She wiped her face with shaking hands:

"But you're always there, with me, keeping..." She paused. "Keeping me safe."

Jemma looked at him and trust in her eyes was causing pain in his chest.

"Jemma, I'm _one_ agent. I'm not whole of Hydra."

Grant could have said more but was debating if Jemma was ready to have her faith in Whitehall a _little bit_ shaken when the door was emphatically pounded on:

"I'm sorry, really but you have to see it!"

Grant rose and helped Jemma up.

 _It better be worth it_ or Grant was going to start on re-training McBraid immediately.

Grant halted in the doorway upon catching the sight of the real live feed.

"...SHIELD is a terrorist organization and they should be treated as such..."

Christian. Grant almost choked on the wave of rage that washed over him. He clenched his fists trying to keep it under control but his heartbeat was already going up and the only thing he could see was Christian's self-assured smile.

Terrified child's cries echoed in Grant's head but he forcefully exhaled as deeply as he could manage and concentrated on another memory.

Soft and patient voice…

_Your family doesn't define you._

_Stay in the present._

_Breathe in – one, two..._

"...multi-national police force that will target those suspected of ties with SHIELD..."

_...hold your breath – one, two..._

"SHIELD is done for - if every government opens hunt on them...Wait, Massachusetts Senator Christian _Ward_."

_...breathe out – one, two..._

"Any relation?"

… _three._

Damn.

Gunshot abruptly deafened every other sound. Small round hole left cracks sneaking away all over the now black surface of the TV screen.

 _Глупый мальчишка._ Grant imagined indulgent sigh.

Hydra agent swallowed:

"Guess that means "yes".

ooo

Dropping a bag on the table of a new motel room Grant pulled out two passports:

"We're leaving in fifteen minutes."

Jemma crossed her arms and glared at him:

"Where are we going?"

Grant wasn't surprised that she was pissed at him, just relieved that she looked more contemplative of than outright rejecting the ideas he forced her to face.

"U.K." She frowned in confusion. "We're visiting your parents, Jemma. Cheer up."

McBraid dropped his passport and with a wince picked it up from the floor.

"Any comments?"

He swallowed whatever words he had but Jemma wasn't that cowed by Grant's recent violence towards inanimate objects:

"Are you insane? Hydra looks for us, UN is ready to authorize a witch-hunt on both SHIELD and Hydra and you want to visit my _parents?!_ "

"Ouch, Jemma. I called them and they were quiet shocked to find out you were alive – did you know that Coulson told them you died in the line of duty?"

She paled faster than Grant has anyone seen to do. Unless you counted severed carotid artery.

"You wouldn't allow them to continue thinking so, now would you? I barely convinced them I wasn't mocking their loss."

Jemma just grabbed the table's edge while McBraid started to quietly move around packing their pitiful belongings.

Grant was tempted to say that he also convinced them to call one _Leo Fitz._

It was promising to be memorable meeting. Especially because both SHIELD and Hydra kept watch over Mr. and Mrs. Simmons.

 _Very_ memorable.

ooo

Simmons' residence was a lovely place. And quiet.

But not for long if Grant had any say.

"Piglets one to three are in the positions. Red Hood is inside. Big Bad Wolf's ETA forty minutes."

McBraid's voice in the comm was calm and professional even though Grant didn't need to be a spy to know exactly _what_ and _how loud_ he was thinking about his superior's plan.

"I don't like this." Jemma on the other hand had no such qualms and spent hour and a half long drive to Ecclesall informing Grant of criminal stupidity of his actions.

"Believe me, Jemma, you'll change your mind."

She tried her best to annihilate him with her glare and marched straight to her parents' home.

Grant fought back a wince and went after her – he didn't have to worry about her safety at least for the next forty minutes. The Hydra team monitoring Simmons' parents was terrified of Grant enough to accept his authority without too much of a fuss (one broken nose didn't count). They were even competent enough as to capture SHIELD team doing the same job as them – efficiently and silently.

"Mom, Dad?" Jemma's voice was trembling and she was rigid and still but it wasn't comparable with her parents' reactions to seeing her _alive._

While her mother wailed and clutched her tight her father had to lean on the wall and was fruitlessly trying to stop hysterically laughing. Grant waited just outside the front door to two storey house. He was uncomfortable witnessing Jemma with her parents. And jealous. The envy he was feeling in this moment was like an inferno to forest fire he experienced then he first saw Jemma and Fitz.

 _This_ was what parents were supposed to be like.

Grant swallowed the bile and struggled to compartmentalize.

"Jemma!" Strangled cry informed Grant about the entrance of Leo Fitz.

Grant wasn't up for witnessing _this_ reunion so he stepped out of sight and waited until Jemma hurriedly somewhat calmed down her three closest persons and called:

"Grant?"

He walked through the doors and had dubious pleasure of being put under scrutinizing stares of Jemma's family. Her parents were still shocked and reacted to him mostly with confusion and a touch of wariness – understandable since Grant looked like went through dozen scuffles (which he kind of did).

Fitz was a little slow on recognizing but then he recovered he went wide-eyed and rushed between Jemma and Grant.

Admirable if useless.

"Why don't you introduce me, Jemma?"

Jemma startled having been struck into bewilderment by Fitz's reaction and stammered:

"Th-his is Grant, m-my friend."

Fitz's face lost any color it had left after being reunited with Jemma.

"And these are my parents, Jonathan and Abigail Simmons. This is Leo Fitz, my…my partner and former colleague."

Jemma's parents were looking from Jemma to Grant to Fitz and slowly getting that something was wrong.

Mrs. Simmons realized it first:

" _Former_ colleague? Jemma, honey, what do you mean?"

Jemma took a deep breath and said:

"I left SHIELD." Her parents glanced at each other and Grant was amused to see that they seemed to be relieved but were trying to hide it under sympathetic concern. Before they could try and express it Jemma added:

"And joined Hydra."

Her parents just stared at her in incomprehension while Fitz stumbled back. Grant ignored anger which Jemma's hurt expression caused in him.

"Why don't you go and make some tea for your parents, Jemma? They look like they could use it." Jemma rolled her eyes at him and went in the direction of the kitchen. "And I explain everything to you three."

His wry smile did nothing to reassure Mr. and Mrs. Simmons when they realized _what_ affiliation Jemma's new friend most certainly had.

ooo

Grant sat at the table and gestured for others to join him.

Mr. Simmons objected:

"I don't know what's going on but if you are who I think you are you will leave my home or…"

"Or what?" Grant slouched in the chair and thrown an arm over its back. "You will call the police?" He tsked. "I hope you don't want to get them horribly and painfully killed, do you, Jonathan?"

He heavily sat in the chair. His wife bit her lip and sat too.

"You probably should know that your house is under constant surveillance – from both SHIELD and Hydra." Grant smiled. "But don't worry, right now every bug is neutralized." He patted his jacket's pocket.

"Y-you're G-Gra-ant W-Ward," Fitz finally spoke and Grant wasn't expecting stammering. Agent 33's report said that she saw agent Fitz on the plane in Miami and he looked well enough.

Grant nodded.

Fitz opened his mouth but Grant was on a schedule. And Jemma won't be making tea for long.

"You can fill Mr. and Mrs. Simmons on atrociousness of my crimes later. We need to talk about Jemma."

Her mother lifted her chin up:

"What did you threaten her with?"

"Excuse me?"

"Jemma would never have worked for you if you didn't threaten her. Was it with our deaths?"

Well, he should have expected nothing less from Jemma's mother.

"Jemma is brainwashed."

Fitz flinched and though Grant was _dying_ to shake him and demand _why the fuck_ he haven't told SHIELD about the very real possibility of it happening in case of Jemma's capture he said:

"I'll skip details and stop on the essential. Basically Jemma was tortured and had her memory and personality _slightly_ adjusted to convince her Hydra is the best thing that happened to our ungrateful planet and she's now as loyal to Hydra as she was to SHIELD."

Mrs. Simmons whimpered and pressed her palms to her mouth and her husband interlaced his fingers in a punishing grip but they were able to rationally analyze the situation.

Grant was impressed.

"What do you want?"

"You're asking the wrong question." Grant leaned forward and on the table. "The right question is what are you willing to do to help her?"

"Anything." Grant internally sighed. Some people just never understood what it meant – to do _anything_ for the person you care about.

Like he did for John.

Unfortunately, some people just didn't appreciate such devotion.

But he wasn't here for John.

And luckily for Jemma's parents he wasn't going to ask anything terrible or amoral. Fitz on the other hand…

"Then you're going to do as I say." He stood up and having came round the table leaned over their shoulders. His voice was cold and quiet:

"You're going to accept Jemma's decision to come to Hydra and be supportive of her admiration to Dr. Whitehall." He ignored Fitz's shuddering inhale. "You will be talking to her about her childhood and happy memories and her dreams, aspirations, goals – from her pre-SHIELD life only. You will listen to her – you may not agree with her but do it without judgment and criticism against Dr. Whitehall – you will simply _love her._ Or you will lose her _forever._ Do you understand me?"

They quickly nodded and gripped each other's hands. Jemma's mother was silently crying and trying to not let Grant see her tears.

"And you – with me." He grabbed Fitz by his elbow and dragged him out of the room.

ooo

Out of earshot of both the living room and kitchen Grant stopped and pinning Fitz to the wall hissed:

"Tell me everything that happened from the moment you and Jemma jumped in the river."

SHIELD agent glared at him and angrily demanded:

"W-why sh-should I-I?"

"I'm trying to help. Like I did then I shot Hydra agents the last time I saw you. Like I did then I first met you. Or did you think that police was on to you _accidentally?_ "

Fitz deeply inhaled.

" _Start talking."_

Fitz gritted his teeth and slowly controlling every word said:

"I lost Jemma from sight, searched, lost consciousness, regained it after almost a month in coma – Director Coulson told me Jemma died."

Grant wanted to bang his head against the wall in sudden understanding. Instead he whispered:

"What I said to Jemma's parents – applies to you, too. But I want something _else_ from you."

Fitz tensed:

"W-what?"

"Information which Coulson has on the Obelisk."

Fitz tried to shove him but Grant pushed back:

"You didn't actually think that I was doing _this_ out of goodness of my heart, did you?" He smiled and Fitz paled again – but not from fear. Far from it.

"Y-you're s-son of a bitch!"

Grant pushed him against the wall – _again_ – and drawled:

"Why, thank you, that's the first time I've heard anyone say the truth about my mother. Well, besides my father. _And_ my older brother."

Fitz looked in confusion and shock at him for a moment and then bit out:

"Y-you're _sick._ I-I will n-never b-betray SHIELD. A-a-and I will s-save J-jemma w-without your...your... _h_ _-h_ _elp._ "

Grant pushed him for the third time - for good measure:

"You'll change your mind."

Grant released him just in time to turn to Jemma entering the corridor with a tray:

"And we came looking for you, Jemma. Fitz here is _so_ glad to see you. Did you know that he was in a coma for a month?"

Grant snatched the tray from Jemma while she stumbled and having reached Fitz desperately clutched him.

Part one of the plan – ready.

Time for part two.

Grant smiled not bothering to hide it from an alarmed Fitz.

ooo

The conversation at the table reached another pause and Jemma was still a little awkward with Fitz. Grant leaned to Fitz and shared:

"Jemma is a little upset with you, Leo."

Jemma startled but Fitz stammered:

"W-what? Why?"

"She thinks that then you were captured the first time Coulson let it happen."

Fitz turned to Jemma:

"He w-wouldn't..." Grant kicked him under the table. "...I...I m-mean...as ag-gents...it's our...our..."

He was as much terrible at coming up with a lie on the spot as Jemma was.

"You see, Jemma didn't appreciate being considered expendable and sent on a mission without back-up. But she's more hurt by _your_ reaction to this incident. What did you do? Defended Coulson, right?"

Fitz looked from Grant to Jemma and kept silent. He obviously couldn't understand what he shouldn't say.

Grant decided to be helpful - after all "wolves" were going to be here any moment:

"She thinks that because you defended Coulson's decision _you_ would have done the same to her - left her alone with enemies."

Fitz finally got it and moving closer to Jemma took her hands in his own. Jemma was watching him with a bated breath.

"I w-will n-never d-do this t-to y-yo-ou, Jem-Jemma."

She hesitantly smiled and squeezed his hands.

Idyll lasted for almost ten minutes.

Grant's comm cracked to life:

"Big Bad Wolf in three, two, _one!_ "

The doors burst open as Hydra operatives entered the house.

"Long time no see, Bobbi."

ooo

Grant leaned on the wall in the hallway outside the living room while Bobbi was pacing before him:

"Are you _really_ threatening to blow up everyone in this house? Even _Jemma?_ "

Grant opened his jacket and thoughtfully looked over C-4 blocks strapped to his chest and sides:

"I don't _want_ to, Bobbi, but you're _so_ stubborn. I'm starting to feel _cornered._ " He jiggled the switch in his left hand.

Bobbi crossed her arms and hissed:

"Fine, have it your way. I'm not the one who will be convincing Dr. Whitehall. But Jemma Simmons _is_ a traitor."

With that she sharply turned around and went back in the room.

Grant internally sighed. What's got into her?

"You will be under house arrest, Dr. Simmons."

Then Bobbi addressed Fitz who once again placed himself between Jemma and dangerous people:

"You will be accompanying us, Dr. Fitz. Hydra wanted to recruit you for quite some time."

Grant tuned out Fitz's defiant answer and looked at Jemma. She was worrying her bottom lip and _not looking at the watch._

He cleared his throat interrupting trading of insults:

"Jemma, you don't look so well. How are you?"

Her eyes widened and she blurted out:

"I need to go to the bathroom!"

Bobbi tried to intercept Jemma as she bolted up the stairs but Grant stopped her with a pointed glance to his left hand.

Bobbi clenched her jaw and angrily stalked away.

"Piglet three is with Sleeping Beauty. Prince Charming is in fifteen minutes."

Grant took out Fitz's phone:

"Bobbi, we're about to have guests - fifteen minutes. You, Leo, better call your friends and inform them how much explosives I have on me."

Bobbi tensed and started giving orders to her team.

Fitz patted his pockets:

"W-when d-did..." And abruptly stopped with a glare directed towards Grant.

Grant smiled.

Part two - ready.

ooo

Phil Coulson didn't seem dangerous - _at all._ Pleasant features, affable smile, genial attitude - Grant could have pegged him as a _clerk_ not a _spy._ Having never met the guy Grant heard enough to be on edge. People weighed by excessive morals were his least favorite type to manipulate - although, arguably, the easiest - you can never predict then they decide it's justifiable to cross the line.

"Mr. and Mrs. Simmons, agent Fitz," he didn't even stress the word _agent_ and poor Fitz still flinched. _God,_ he perfected a father-to-his-subordinates image, didn't he?

"Mr. Ward, Ms. Morse," the familiar annoying British guy flinched at the last name and Grant became curious. Especially because Bobbi seemed to be glaring at him with as much fire as he was with at her.

How did they know each other? Lance Hunter was mercenary, ex-SAS...

"Oh, _no._ " Director Coulson slightly tensed but Grant paid him no mind. This - this was pure _gold._ "Don't tell me you were married to _this,_ Bobbi, please, I'm _begging_ you."

Coulson pursued his lips, British guy was almost bursting with desire to speak up and Bobbi scowled:

"Don't you _dare,_ pretty boy..."

British idiot's patience ended. Explosively.

"I _knew_ it, I always _knew_ that one day your nature will reveal itself, Bob! You're such a..."

"Shut up, Hunter!"

"Stop, agent Hunter, keep yourself..."

"But she's a demonic hell beast, sir!"

"You're _dead,_ Hunter!"

" _Demonic hell beast?_ " Grant was wrong - it was _better_ than gold.

"Everyone shut the hell up!"

Fitz jumped up and was shaking and heavily breathing.

"Jemma is alive! You _lied_ to me, sir! You lied to Jemma's parents and put them through so much grief! _How could you?_ "

Coulson's face became blank and his eyes - hard. Now here was the man Grant could imagine being a killer:

"Jemma Simmons betrayed SHIELD, her team, her _friends._ Do you know how many agents – good people – we lost then she brought Hydra right on our heads? I wanted to spare you more..."

"Jemma was _brainwashed._ And if you _didn't lie_ to me that _she's dead_ I would have already told you this and we could have spent last month trying to _save_ her!"

Coulson's face conveyed his confusion - but only for a moment:

"That's what _she_ told you, isn't it? I know it's hard to imagine, Fitz, but Jemma Simmons we all knew is gone – she was gone then she caused her fellow agents' deaths..."

"Are you even _listening_ to me?!" Fitz punched the table and leaned on it with his fists." Then we were captured the first time by Hydra..."

He better not be...

"...they mocked us and said that we _will_ work for Hydra whether we want it or not. That Dr. Whitehall will put us through the Faustus method and re-write us into Hydra's puppets."

Huh, so he could lie after all.

Coulson sighed:

"I shouldn't have pushed you. After your trauma it's..."

"Stop talking to me like that - like I'm...I'm... _damaged._ "

"I'm not..."

"Yes, you are. You've looked at me and _written me off_ \- only Mack didn't! He's better friend than you're all put together! And now you're not listening! Because you all think I went crazy from...from...ah...it's...it's...there is..."

Grant helpfully supplied:

"Isolation? Grief? Abandonment?"

Fitz snapped his fingers:

"Yes, that...grief!"

Before Fitz could have continued another voice from the stairs exclaimed:

"Oh, agent Coulson! Hunter, Idaho, agent Koenig. How are you, Eric? Oops, I'm sorry, Billy..."

Gunshot cracked through already flammable atmosphere and woman's figure dropped from the stairs.

Fitz rushed to her with heart-breaking "Jemma!" and hugged close.

Dead woman's head lolled from side to side and with electrical sparks nano mask turned off revealing mouth glued with duct tape.

In the horrified silence Grant said:

"You should keep your agents on a tighter leash, _Director_ Coulson."

He straightened away from the wall and nodded to shocked Bobbi:

"We can leave. I saw everything I wanted."


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Thank you all! I'm sorry for the wait but it took time to arrange the events to my liking. I hope this chapter won't disappoint.
> 
> Thank you for your comments!
> 
> In case it was confusing who died in the end of the previous chapter – I'm sorry if I overdid it with ambiguity – it was SHIELD agent from the surveillance team.  
> Any of the opinions voiced by the characters are not the ultimate truth (or even necessarily reflect my opinions) – they are my interpretations of what the characters would probably do.  
> If you want to, I will appreciate your thoughts on whether they are in character.  
> If any of the created by me OCs are getting to much screen time – please write if you don't like it and why. But I kind of need them, because AOS never presented much of secondary cast (support staff – especially from Hydra side).
> 
> I hope you will enjoy eleventh chapter.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything but probably plot :) - if you recognize something, it's probably not mine. All rights belong to their owners.  
> Cross-posted at fanfiction.net - s/11701788
> 
> Thank you for reading!

The ring bell distracted Grant from the _very_ important task - planning the details of deceive-Whitehall-and-stay-alive mission.

When Grant opened the door he saw Bobbi standing outside his apartment looking mildly uncomfortable.

"Hi, may I come in?" Bobbi's nervousness put Grant on edge. Did something happen to Jemma? _Again._

No, Raina would have contacted him immediately if that was the case.

He nodded and stepped to the side letting Bobbi in.

She stopped upon seeing the changes and questioningly looked at Grant.

He shrugged - okay, maybe the store manager went a little crazy with Grant's credit card but at least his place didn't look as barracks any longer.

It was a bit unsettling - and odd - but strangely soothing. He almost regretted that HQ was going to be relocated.

Leaning on the stand he watched as she paced - three steps forward, turn, three steps back.

When she finally spoke up it was with the last question he could have expected:

"Is Dr. Simmons really brainwashed?"

She was still pacing as he thought how to answer.

On the one hand it wasn't exactly a secret that some Hydra agents were in Hydra less than voluntary - the secret was _which_ ones.

On the other hand - Whitehall was under impression that _Grant_ was one of them. Even if it was unstable and done quite differently than usually - Grant had much more autonomy and leeway.

"It's about what Dr. Fitz said, isn't it?" He sighed. "I don't know why he came to that conclusion. Maybe he couldn't accept the truth."

Bobbi stopped and turned around:

"So it's just him being unable to believe in Simmons' defection?"

Her posture was relaxed, face was calm and eyes offered no clues either - but this in itself was telling.

"Not completely, from what I've seen of his and her parents' reactions, she changed - not much, just little things. But it can be disturbing all the same - and it's easier to think it was someone's influence."

Grant waited several seconds:

"People just can't understand what effect meeting Dr. Whitehall has until they feel it themselves."

Bobbi frowned:

"What do you mean?"

Grant shrugged:

"He makes you see the truth. And it frees you - everything becomes clear and you find purpose, _meaning._ "

Her eyes tensed and that was the only reaction Grant saw. She was good. But Grant's words - and their implications - weren't something she was prepared for.

Change of topic was in order:

"How's your head?" She touched the bump on her forehead and scowled. "I would have been sorry, really, if you just listened...but you're _hellishly_ stubborn, Bobbi."

 _God,_ he was in for a world of pain at their next spar.

Her scowl deepened.

Grant smiled. It was worth it. Totally.

ooo

Closing the door behind Bobbi he leaned on it and slid down to the floor.

Whitehall and Bakshi were due to return in three hours. And though Grant planned this _before_ he dragged reluctant Jemma in England, now he questioned his sanity.

But his plan, however crazy it was – hinging too much on Whitehall's arrogance – opened possibilities to avoid inevitable re-brainwashing. Because there was _no way_ he was going to sell his actions as anything other than being compromised - _caring_ about Jemma.

_That's not a weakness, is it?_

He angrily banished John's words from his mind.

He cared, yes. He was weak. There was no denying it - Jemma, Raina, Bobbi, even the kid...and _Skye._

He got attached. The only thing he could do now was do damage control.

And if Grant succeeded - not only Jemma and Donnie would be out, Grant would show John just how wrong he was in throwing Grant away.

He will prove it to John and John will regret leaving him alone.

He wasn't useless. He _wasn't._

And whole of Hydra will see it.

ooo

"You caused quite a commotion, agent Ward." Dr. Whitehall's smile showed his amusement and nothing else.

"It could have been avoided if not for the mole." Grant clamped down on his trepidation. He had nothing to worry about - he protected Dr. Whitehall's interests. That's all. "It was rather high-handed to send everyone in this building the photo of Dr. Simmons in compromising situation."

"Is that so?" Smile turned sharp.

But Grant ignored it. Dr. Whitehall had no reason to be displeased with Grant. He protected Jemma for _him._

"He - or she - made a mistake choosing someone whose betrayal is out of the question - should have stuck with Dr. Turgeon. Although, am I wrong in assuming he was set up too?"

"No, you're not." Dr. Whitehall leaned back in his seat. "It's going to be some time before Dr. Turgeon recovers enough to continue his work. If not for your actions Dr. Simmons would have been in the same position and unable to step in and replace her supervisor. How _fortunate_ that you intervened."

"I was trying to stop agent Morse from making hasty judgment - and playing right in the mole's hands."

Dr. Whitehall steepled his fingers in front of him:

"And that's the reason for the spectacle you organized in England."

Grant shrugged:

"My brother dearest spoke about "SHIELD's" attack on UN and I decided to use an opportunity - Coulson was going to be too busy convincing US Senator and saving minister Beckers to immediately react to Dr. Fitz's movements and one former agent visiting her family."

"Wasn't it too much of a risk leading both SHIELD and Hydra to one location?"

To _Dr. Simmons_ was left unsaid.

"It paid off, didn't it?" Grant nodded to the memory card on the desk's surface which Dr. Whitehall studied before inviting Grant in his office. "Dr. Fitz was _very impressed_ by his superiors' attitude to Jemma Simmons."

And sent to email Grant left in his phone the images of carvings similar to the ones made by John. Presumably done by Coulson himself.

"You assume he will betray SHIELD. However, sharing information he's aware is mostly identical to the one we have is not the same as becoming the mole for an organization he despises."

"I have no doubt he will choose Jemma over the whole world." Eventually. "However, turning him will require time. And caution."

Dr. Whitehall looked even more amused:

"And should be left to you, not Mr. Bakshi."

Don't react.

Grant frowned:

"You ordered to find out what SHIELD knows about the Obelisk. I'm sure Bakshi can continue with Dr. Fitz."

Dr. Whitehall's smile was full of promise.

Fear crept up his insides towards the heart. Did he upset Dr. Whitehall?

He didn't mean to.

Before Grant could have come up with an apology Dr. Whitehall said:

"I'll leave Dr. Fitz to you - report about any progress to me only."

Grant fought the urge to show his satisfaction:

"But Bakshi..."

"Will be busy searching for the mole."

Dr. Whitehall straightened in the chair and leaning forward arched an eyebrow:

"Anything else, agent Ward?"

Grant stood up:

"May I request transfer of agents I involved in England? Off the record."

Dr. Whitehall's smile became even wider.

ooo

Hallway outside the cabinet. Elevator. Twenty-six floors down.

Breathe.

In and out.

In and out.

Exiting at the underground parking lot Grant saw Raina waiting near his car.

"Shouldn't you be busy overseeing your lab's relocation?"

"My assistants are capable of handling it without my micromanaging."

Grant snorted:

"And I'm what? Not capable of driving without supervision?"

"How many painkillers did you take?" Raina outstretched right hand and with a huff Grant gave her keys. Although both of them knew that the answer was "none".

Two blocks from Hydra laboratories Raina turned to the familiar bar. Grant told himself not to worry. Just colleagues hanging out. Nothing interesting.

Nothing suspicious.

Weaving through the crowd behind Raina he slipped in the seat at the counter next to her.

She smiled, ordered something and started chattering away.

Half-paying attention to her stories, half-being lulled by her intonation Grant clenched the glass stopping his fingers from shaking. He didn't risk lifting it up - he knew he would splash the drink all over himself.

Raina's presence inexplicably unraveled a knot in his stomach sloughing off Grant Ward, Hydra agent, loyal to Dr. Whitehall (and kind of to Hydra, too) bit by bit.

Leaving Grant Ward who was on the verge of hysterical laughter because he was alive and not strapped to a metal frame.

He couldn't know for sure if his walking the line between desperate-to-not-displease and daring-to-lie-to-Whitehall's-face was effective.

Maybe Whitehall bought it. Maybe not.

But even if he will decide to not play with Grant and simply brainwash him again - he was ready for this possibility.

Raina leaned to him - as if sharing in secret some juicy detail of the latest gossip - and under cover of their bodies and the counter squeezed Grant's hand.

He squeezed back.

ooo

"...Dr. Whitehall said I could call my parents any time I wanted - accounting for SHIELD listening, of course...Grant, thank you." Jemma was speaking a mile a minute and slightly breathless.

Grant smiled:

"I told you that you would change your mind about my plan."

Although Grant couldn't see her he was sure she rolled her eyes at him:

"Yes, _I-am-agent-Grant-Ward-I-hatched-the-most-great-plan-ever. Single-handedly._ "

Her imitation of his voice was truly atrocious.

"Hey, I don't sound like that!"

He got only her giggles in answer.

"Laugh it up, I'll figure out how to get back at you." More giggling.

Footsteps on the stairs below indicated that he needed to wrap up the conversation:

"Sorry, I have to go. Bye, Jemma."

"Bye, Grant." Her voice was soft and unexpectedly tingled his heart.

Ending the call he dismissed the feeling and cheerfully waved at the frozen agent McBraid:

"Thought I'd drop by, say "hello."

ooo

"Where are we going, sir?" McBraid was sitting unnaturally still in a passenger seat of Grant's car.

"New York." Grant turned the wheel getting on the highway.

"Why are we going there, sir?" Grant internally sighed. The Hydra agent was persistent and already recovered from his bout of compliance.

Although Grant was amused by his attitude and looked forward to riling him up - two and a half hours was enough to start uncovering just what got Raina so excited about this particular agent.

"To have some fun, agent." Grant grinned.

McBraid oddly glanced at him:

"I don't think this word means what you think it means, sir."

"Oh, come on, haven't you enjoyed our little adventure?"

He stayed silent. No, that wouldn't do.

"You can say what you want - I don't have a habit of killing people if I don't like what they say."

Agent stared at Grant with wide eyes and then cleared his throat:

"No, you just set people up to be killed to fulfill your goals." He stiffened. "Sir."

"You're mad about that SHIELD agent? You didn't even know her."

McBraid gritted his teeth:

"She was our prisoner - and we were responsible for her, sir."

Grant laughed:

"Are you going to quote Geneva convention at me now?"

"No, sir. I do realize that it doesn't apply to us - as members of terrorist organization."

But he was still furious that Grant set her up to die. After threatening that if she won't play her part her fellow agents were going to be killed.

"I let her colleagues go. I didn't promise that nothing would happen to _her._ "

"And that means you kept your word? It's still a lie, however you phrased it."

Grant smiled. The guy was funny if weird.

"If it's any consolation, I didn't expect her to be killed - that early, too." Agent Sullivan was ordered to push SHIELD agents' buttons, true, but he didn't even get to the more painful insults. "I mean, it was possible but SHIELD was supposed to be more noble." And _Coulson_ was the one Grant intended to make angry.

He underestimated agent Koenig's grief about his brother's death.

But the way the events played out was more beneficial than Grant planned. He certainly wouldn't've made such progress with agent Fitz already.

" _That's_ why you switched Dr. Simmons with someone irrelevant to you, sure. Sir."

Grant finally sighed:

"What are you even doing in Hydra?"

McBraid tilted his head to the side:

"Helping to change the world, sir."

Well, he could become good liar. Sometime in the future...

"Change the world - for worse? How did someone like you end up in Evil Inc.?"

"Someone like _me?_ " Huh, indignation was genuine.

"You know, you were supposed to take offence on the "evil" part." McBraid set his jaw and the corner of his mouth twitched up. "But you have no illusions about Hydra, right?"

Getting no answer Grant continued:

"You're lucky that Dr. Whitehall was preoccupied with packing HQ - and me - to personally question you."

Silence was oppressive but Grant ignored it focusing on the road.

"Agent Correa is my reason, sir." McBraid's voice was tense but _conviction_ in it - it sent shivers down Grant's spine. "She's my reason for everything."

Grant suddenly got suspicion that whatever caused Raina's enthusiasm about this guy was something Grant wouldn't like.

At all.

ooo

Hydra agents from England's surveillance team were standing in line before Grant. Agent Reznikoff was still sporting gauze on her face.

"I'm sure you're wondering what are you doing here. Don't worry - you're not going to be punished for following my orders." Grant leaned on the desk and smiled:

"You've been transferred under my command. You're going dark and will answer only to me. Any contact with HQ or other agents with exception of agent McBraid is not allowed unless with my permission or if situation will require it."

Grant fell silent and looked at the agents. They stared back. Grant waited.

Come on, he wasn't _that_ scary.

Finally agent Reznikoff couldn't keep quiet any longer:

"What will be our mission, _sir?_ " Grant disregarded her sarcastic tone:

"Find the real mole, of course." Grant didn't care about Hydra secrets but he _really_ didn't appreciate the attempt to frame up Jemma.

ooo

Midtown Manhattan was as busy as Grant remembered it being. Crowded café was providing much needed anonymity while Grant, McBraid and agent Reznikoff listened in on her team's meeting with a very lucky journalist.

"I hope you understand that as soon as this scribbler's big news is published we're screwed. Sir." Hydra team leader's tone hasn't become less disrespectful but as long as she obeyed Grant's orders and didn't push his lenience too far…

"I'd like to think that _they_ would be too happy to care about the reporter's source." Well, for the first twenty-four hours.

Agent Reznikoff wasn't reassured.

Oh, who was he kidding – he was _so_ dead.

As if his first contact – _altercation_ – with the Avengers wasn't disastrous enough.

ooo

**Eleven months ago**

It was just Grant's luck – or lack of thereof – that then agent Armstead brought Asgardian bitch to Triskelion Grant was one of the first ones they encountered and who, thus, tried to apprehend unauthorized person. After she failed to completely subdue him through voice she deemed him better than the rest men she met so far on Midgard and he was chosen as her top enforcer.

Unprepared for more than half of its personnel siding with the enemy Triskelion fell embarrassingly quick.

That left only one foe besides Lady Sif capable of stopping power-hungry witch – the Avengers.

Fortunately, five of six Avengers were male.

Even more fortunately, Thor was on Asgard, Dr. Banner out of New York and freaking captain Rogers broke out Lady Sif and Commander Hill managing to not run in Lorelei _even once._

Otherwise Grant was certain that Romanoff would have been forced to cross him off rather than waste precious time trying to knock him out without seriously hurting.

Grant was grateful that she didn't take the more efficient option. It couldn't have been easy to spare him blow after blow while having broken collarbone and other injuries received from being thrown around by an Asgardian.

Even though he ended up tased. Twice.

ooo

His phone vibrated just as sharing of confidential information was drawing to a close. Grant took it out and barely stopped himself from jumping up and down in joy.

 _Broadway – Lafayette St., subway,_ _NYC. In six hours. P.S. Don't get any ideas._ From: Auto. To: Wall-E.

Grant _absolutely_ got wild with ideas.

Three clicks in the comms signaled the finish of the meeting.

"It's going to be so much fun." Agent Reznikoff swallowed while McBraid just sighed.

Well, _he_ most certainly will have fun.

ooo

Grant was watching Skye trying to decide if he liked her new hairstyle or not. Well, the bangs were making her look even younger – but were also creating romantic image.

With black formal two-piece suit under coat it kind of painted the picture of a beginning clerk. Or law student.

Either way it was cool. And hot.

"Looking to change a profession?" He sneaked up on her making her startle.

"Are you crazy scaring people like that?" Skye suspiciously glared at him and moved away.

"Maybe, Eve. New hair is cute by the way." She hesitated looking him over and then huffed:

"How many faces do you have at your disposal? And it's _Auto,_ Wall-E."

"The same one who was inspired by Hal 9000? Really?"

She crossed her arms and hissed:

"It's the main antagonist! And Hal was kind of cool – if crackpot."

Yes, Grant got it – "Auto"'s profile showed _100% enemy - 0% match_ to him.

Well, it can change.

"So why am I here? Did you miss me?"

She glowered at him:

"What I wrote about "getting ideas?"

At Grant's smile she heaved a sigh:

"Don't flatter yourself. If I had any other options I would have chosen them."

It stung a little to be considered the _last_ option but – _she_ contacted him. Willingly.

"Ouch, that hurt, Eve."

She glared.

"A little."

Skye rolled her eyes:

"Whatever. I need to get my friend out of the police station. You must remember her – you left her _and her son_ tied to a radiator for _four hours._ "

" _I_ wasn't the one who couldn't put together a gun consisting of _five_ _parts_ for so long."

She paid no attention to it:

"I hacked NYPD and am ready to plant order for transfer of suspect into FBI's custody."

Grant raised an eyebrow:

"You seem to have the plan figured out. What do you need me for?"

She frowned:

"Don't pretend to be daft – I have no idea how to actually pull it off. And I look, well…"

"Too young to be a federal agent." Grant smiled:

"Hey, maybe you're a prodigy…"

She smacked him in the arm.

Damn, he was just trying to compliment her.

"…a little violent one."

He dodged her next swat.

ooo

"Draw it, open and put away. Be confident." Skye's practicing mantra wasn't filling _Grant_ with confidence. But as long as she didn't drop the ID...

"Relax, agent Dawson." He stopped the car in front of the NYPD building.

Skye forcefully exhaled and nodded. Seeing different face on her was disconcerting even though he picked it himself.

The precinct was busy with officers and detectives but it wasn't the sight that made Grant want to turn around and drag Skye away.

Agent Young and unknown man were standing near detective Lewis' desk.

"Change of plans - execute Alpha three." Skye stilled at his words but recovered and briskly walked away from Grant while he moved to the arguing people.

"Detective Lewis? Agent Miller, FBI. I'm here for Ms. Page."

Detective frowned at him:

"I'm afraid we have a problem, agent Miller. These agents are here for Ms. Page too."

"Agent Young, FBI, this is agent Flynn, CIA. I understand that Ms. Page is a person of interest in your investigation but our case takes precedence."

What were _they_ doing here?

"Why's that?"

"Matter of National security."

Grant snorted:

"Yeah, sure, a _con artist_ \- not very successful one at that - is so important."

Agent Young calmly confirmed:

"Yes, she is."

Grant sighed:

"Can I at least speak to her?"

"No."

He threw his hands up:

"You're not serious! Just fifteen minutes in the interrogation - you can watch."

"I'm sorry but no."

Grant scowled at her:

"Look, agent Young, I didn't come here all the way from Indiana to return empty handed. Do you know how much information she can have?"

FBI agent shook her head:

"I _am_ sorry that it causes troubles in your investigation but we're taking Ms. Page."

Grant turned to the detective who stepped back raising hands:

"Don't drag me into this. You're federal agents."

Grant moved closer to agent Young:

"Don't think I'll leave it. I'm gonna call your superiors."

CIA agent who kept quiet until now smirked:

"Good luck. It's _way_ above the pay grade of an agent from backwaters field office."

"Excuse me?" Grant didn't even need to play offence - some upstart from an agency which didn't even know how far behind SHIELD they were thought he was better than level 7 operative?

"No need to take it personally, agent Miller."

"I'm not the one who can't keep his arrogance..."

"Whoa, calm down!"

"Arrogance? We're protecting our country..."

"And we're what? Sitting on our asses?"

"Gentlemen, you need to calm..."

"We're serving as much as you do - only without fancy toys and…"

"Is this idiot for real?"

Grant's burner phone vibrated in his pocket. Time to go.

"We'll see which one of us is an idiot. I won't leave it like that!"

He angrily turned around and stormed off.

ooo

"Jessica, this is...Austin."

Grant didn't appreciate her needling when they needed to quickly get away from the police station and change the car - even though Skye could have picked up worse name.

Jessica timidly said:

"Nice to meet you."

Skye cheerfully added:

"He's the one who tied you to a radiator."

Grant pointed out:

"After _saving_ you from..."

White car pulled up before them and abruptly stopped. He jammed on the brakes barely avoiding hitting it and shouted:

"Get down!"

He dropped sideways on the passenger's seat just as windshield burst with glass from bullets.

He grabbed the steering wheel and pulled the car in reverse.

"Skye?" Watching the road from side mirror he accelerated away from the ambushers.

"We're fine!"

They flew out on the intersection and he pushed on the gas pedal:

"Prepare to exit!"

"What?"

The car drove right through the café's show-window.

"Now!" Skye dragged Jessica out and nodding at him rushed to the back entrance ignoring screaming and panicking people.

Ambusher's car screeched to a stop. Grant rammed into them pushing their car in the traffic and opening fire killed a driver and his neighbor.

Driving around them he sped up - patrol cars were coming.

Two minutes later he drove inside the parking lot.

He got out of the car, rushed to the trunk and pulled a canister with gasoline. Thirty seconds later he set the car on fire and ran to the place where he left a bike.

Having put on the helmet and the gloves he turned on the engine and just as he was moving up the ramp he smashed into suddenly appeared car.

Flipping over it Grant landed on his right side and slid across the pavement. Intense pain shot through his shoulder but he paid it no mind rolling away to a sidewalk.

When he tried to stand his left leg burned from foot to knee. He pushed through throbbing and straightened up right to the barrel of the agent Flynn's gun.

"Alive?" Agent Young's voice was at least somewhat apologetic – Grant could guess whose idea it was to almost run him over.

Instead of answering he grabbed the gun and forced it away from himself just as agent Flynn pulled the trigger. Grant ignored the deafening crack, hit him in the head and fired at agent Young with her partner's weapon at the same time as she did.

Bullets impacted his chest knocking the air out of his lungs and causing agony in his left side.

Agent Flynn was out cold while agent Young lied on the ground and tried to lift her gun at Grant. He stepped on her wrist and bent down to pick it then sharp stabs of pain pierced his back and he felt as if his heart was going to fall out of his mouth.

Kicking the gun away from her he stumbled to the agents' car and clutching at his most certainly re-broken rib fell inside.

Police cars were block away as he turned the corner.

ooo

Stopping at the first alley he unbuttoned the jacket and made sure that bullets were stuck in the armored plates. But he couldn't breathe in, only out.

He forced himself to take tiny breaths and got out of the car.

Pulling off the helmet he tried to inhale normally but instead started coughing and put a hand over mouth in an attempt to suppress it.

Then he took away his hand his fingers were stained with blood.

Damn.

Deliberately stepping on his broken ankle he walked away.

Slow breaths through the mouth. Concentrate.

He pulled the phone from his pocket and dialed the only number in its history.

After second beep he heard:

"Connor! Thank God! Are you okay?"

Connor?

"Yes." He didn't trust his ability to say more words between breaths and something fishy…

"Glad to hear - I was worried! Do you think these guys were Hydra?"

"Certainly."

...was...

"Damn. I thought they wouldn't find Jessica that fast. Anyway, we'll be waiting in our place."

"Lie low."

…going…

"Yes, yes, I know. Be careful too."

"Sure."

…on.

Ending the call Grant leaned forward placing his hands on his knees.

He had no idea what Skye was trying to tell him but it sounded an awful lot like she was captured.

His week kept getting better and better.

ooo

EMS vehicle pulled up to the apartment building and paramedics rushed in.

Grant got inside their car and rummaged through the supplies.

Finding necessary ones he got out.

Bus station's restroom stall wasn't the most hygienic place to treat injuries but he didn't have better ideas. Dizziness was impairing his ability to think clearly. And fear for Skye.

_Rendezvous point two. ASAP._

Sending message to Raina was an even worse idea.

ooo

Little motel on the outskirts was chosen by Grant due to it quietness.

Getting up the stairs left him weak, irritated and in more pain than he already was in.

Then he finally made it to the roof he turned EMP device on and partially opening the door threw taser disks. Strangles cries were his cue for entering.

Two operatives in black uniforms without patches - one of them sniper.

Picking disks up he dispatched Hydra agents.

Next to the rifle was device which Grant recognized as Heat Signature Detector.

Little bit of luck worsened Grant's mood. As if today wasn't catastrophic enough.

Still Grant took it.

Motel room had six people in it. And back-up nearby.

So, he had to neutralize eight operatives not getting Skye and her friend killed at the same time.

All without letting any of Hydra agents get away.

And he currently wasn't in the best shape.

When did his life get so complicated?

ooo

Grant strode to the room as if not knowing about the trap.

Sticking bomb on the wall he turned around and walked back the way he came dropping little surprises for later.

The bomb blew a good sized hole in the wall. Grant threw a couple flash bangs in, got to the door and opened it with the key.

He entered and shot all four agents just in time for the back-up to arrive.

Smoke grenades detonated, Grant exited and shot two more agents before gun was knocked out of his hand.

He ducked under the blow, caught Hydra agent's arm and twisted. Another agent ran inside the room – _there Skye was_ – Grant missed hit to the ribs and doubled in pain.

Agent hit again – in the same place - and Grant fell down. Before agent stroke the third time Grant pulled out knife and stabbed him in the back of the knee.

Grant got up, shot bleeding agent and rushed to the room.

Skye stood with a gun aimed at the last Hydra operative – who was half-crouched – _and she wasn't shooting._

Hydra agent twitched and Grant shot him. Body fell on the floor and a small handgun rolled away. Grant reeled and leaned on the wall to stay upright.

"Are you okay?" Skye unfroze and rushed to him.

"Car." Pain was excruciating. "Outside...back..."

"Don't talk." Skye frantically threw his arm over her shoulders. "Jessica!"

Her friend stumbled between the bodies but ran to them.

ooo

"Left." Grant coughed and was dismayed to see there was still a little blood on his palm.

Skye turned the car and warehouse came into view.

"Stop." Skye shut down the engine but before she could exit Grant caught her arm. "Inside...friend."

She hesitantly nodded.

Damn, he should have said the "friend" was _Raina._ It was going to blow up in his face.

Skye and Jessica dragged him out of the car and in the warehouse.

"You?!"

Damn, he _knew_ it.

Skye tensed and stepped forward. Jessica stumbled under Grant's full weight while Raina pleasantly smiled:

"Nice to see you again, Skye."

Before it could have exploded Grant leaned on Jessica and they fell on the floor.

ooo

"I think you have mistaken scientific degree with a medical one. You need a real doctor. _And_ X-ray."

Raina inserted the tube in his chest. He could _feel_ it going through every layer despite Novocaine.

He supposed it said something about his life that this _wasn't_ his most painful experience.

Raina smiled:

"You are very lucky that your lung hasn't collapsed completely. You would have been dead."

Skye abruptly stopped her pacing.

Raina continued with clinical detachment:

"Collapsed lung puts pressure on the heart, causes decreasing blood pressure, shock and soon death."

Grant tried to glare at her. He wasn't a medic by any stretch of imagination but he knew his situation while serious wasn't that extreme.

But Skye was pale and trembling, obviously worried.

_Worried about him._

Fine, for once Grant appreciated Raina's meddling.

ooo

"...I'm not the one who got Chan Ho killed. _After experimenting on him._ "

Furious whispering from the next room woke up Grant.

"I shouldn't be surprised that you're in Hydra. You always had that "mad scientist" look."

Raina's amused laughter made Grant want to stand and intervene before Skye committed homicide.

Then again he was a little interested in the conversation.

"Your disgust towards Hydra is entertaining. Especially considering that you run around with one of their top operatives."

Okay, _very_ interested.

"I'm not running around...he _kidnapped_ me - _twice!_ "

"So that's why you called him for help."

"I didn't...I didn't want to! I had no other choice!"

"Of course, Skye. It's not like you told me that _we always had a choice._ Right before you said you would never introduce me to other Inhumans - because I _don't deserve_ to go through terrigenesis."

"You _don't._ You were with _Centipede._ Now you're with _Hydra._ "

"So self-righteous. Have you forgotten that you worked for Hydra too?"

"What?!"

"You erased all files on agent Ward."

"That's... it was different!"

"How so?"

"I didn't know he was one of them!"

"Really, Skye? _I_ called you after helicarriers blew up above Washington."

"He looked clean! I checked him..."

"Like poor Miles checked Centipede?"

"Don't talk about him!"

"Why not? He _tried_ to make sure his actions won't hurt anyone – much. But he was wrong."

"He took your money and got people killed!"

"Money with which he wanted to build a good life - for himself and for _you._ "

"He's just a liar. All this talk about freedom of information..."

"You're a hypocrite, Skye."

"What?!"

"It was noble to hack evil government organization and dump their files in the internet where anyone could read them. How many people do you think _you_ hurt?"

"Wait a second..."

"And the moment Miles decided to finally gain something more material from his talents you turned your back on him. But he didn't do anything different from what you were doing – uncovering secrets."

"People deserve to know what's being kept from them."

"And that's why you're keeping Inhumans existence a secret?"

"Shut up, Raina! It's different - and you know it!"

"It doesn't take much to make you change your opinion, does it, Skye? Just a promise of _home_ – and look how many people ended up dead."

"I didn't kill them!"

"No, you just let agent Ward do the dirty work for you."

"You...what are you...he's just a murderer!"

"How convenient for you - you got what you wanted but the blame lies squarely on him. After all you didn't make him kill all those people - he did it _himself._ And it doesn't matter that he did it to help you. And it doesn't matter that he now lies with separated shoulder, fractured ankle, broken rib and a _chest tube in his lung._ And it doesn't matter that he killed Hydra agents – effectively betraying the people he works for. You too naive to picture what will be consequences for him if someone finds out. But you never were around for the consequences, weren't you, Skye?"

Grant heard the door being loudly shut.

He should have interrupted them.

ooo

Grant struggled not to show his pain but it was hard then it felt like hot knife was stabbed in his chest.

"You will need to do X-ray." Raina put the pulled out tube on the table. "I'm serious, Grant."

"Okay."

She gave him unimpressed stare:

"No strenuous activity. No high altitudes. No diving. And visit to a professional medic."

Grant nodded. Raina frowned:

"And you should know that your lung can collapse again in the following weeks - and probably will regardless of what you will or won't be doing."

Great.

Knocking on the door by Skye who fidgeted in the doorway the last five minutes stopped Raina from nagging him further.

"May I come in?"

Raina pulled off latex gloves and picking medic kit exited. Without saying a word to Skye or even acknowledging her presence.

Skye tried to do the same but it didn't look quarter as classy.

She lingered in the doorway:

"I'm glad you're not dead."

It sounded better than "murderer".

Not that Grant was hurt or anything.

Of course not.

"And I wanted to thank you – for helping Jessica and saving us from Hydra. _Again._ "

She fell silent.

Silence stretched.

"Aren't you going to say something?"

Grant shrugged ignoring sharp pulling in the shoulder:

"I'm pretty sure murderers are not supposed to be thanked but hey, what would I know?"

Skye flushed. Then paled. Looking everywhere but not at him she blurted out:

"I didn't mean it like that! Well, I did - but not...I didn't want to offend you."

"No, you didn't want me to hear it."

She startled and looked at him but Grant interrupted her coming protests:

"I'm not offended." _Liar._ "You said the truth - you did nothing to feel bad for."

And it was silence again.

She opened her mouth several times and eventually said:

"I froze - then that guy...I knew he was going to kill me, I had a gun and I...just froze."

"You shouldn't regret that you didn't pull the trigger. Of course, then he would have killed you and Jessica but you wouldn't have become like me."

Skye flinched and then bit out:

"I'm _not_ you. And I'll _never_ become like you."

Huh, Raina was right. Skye needed to wake up if she was to survive.

"You prefer someone else to do the killing? Like your teleporting friend or _me._ I didn't expect it from you."

"I didn't say that! Stop twisting my words – you and Raina…I only meant that I won't become cold-blooded serial killer like you!"

"You think I _enjoy_ killing?" Grant wanted to bang his head against the headboard but Raina would object to him ruining her hard work of patching him up. "I kill out of necessity, Skye. Following orders, for success of a mission, to stay alive. And this doesn't make it any less wrong and me any less of a killer but at least I know _why_ I do it."

Skye looked away and crossed her arms.

"And if you insist on getting in danger again and again, you need to ask yourself if you're willing to pay the price for tangling in this shit. Otherwise create yourself – and your friends – new identities and disappear."

"Run away? That's your advice?"

Grant sighed. Damn, it was like speaking to a child:

"Do you want to live?"

"I want Hydra destroyed! And my people to be safe!"

"Then stop being so immature! It's a war. No one's going to fight fair or be merciful."

"I don't expect anyone..."

"No, you do. You're a good person and you can't help but expect other people to be too."

"I'm not naive or stupid!"

"You _are_ naive - and I envy you for it. I hope you will not lose this light inside you."

She huffed:

"You offered to train me. Is it still on the table?"

"Do you really want it?"

Skye glared at him:

"I wouldn't be asking..."

Grant repeated louder:

"Do you really want it? Are you ready to fight someone? To death – don't delude yourself into thinking you can just incapacitate."

"To protect my people?" Skye nodded. "I need...I _want_ this."

Grant hoped she wouldn't regret her decision.

But he knew that one day she would.

ooo

Raina entered with a tablet in her hands:

"Skye and her friend left."

Grant nodded.

"I would never have imagined…" Raina sat in the chair and trailed off.

Grant rolled his eyes:

"What?"

Raina smiled:

"That out of all possible women you will fall for _her._ "

"What's so strange? You think I'm not capable of it?"

Raina smiled her number three favorite smile, you're-silly-but-still-amusing one:

"Quite the opposite in fact. I know you're capable of love. Capable of loving _so much_ it becomes your downfall."

Grant's heartbeat went up:

"Who said anything about "love"? I just want…"

"Her to _see_ you. But Grant, that's the definition of romantic love."

Grant fumbled for something to say. Anything. But words deserted him.

Finally he said:

"You don't approve? It seems like you don't like Skye very much."

"It's not a question of whether I like her. Because _you_ do." She smiled gently and sadly – and Grant felt sudden chill. He's _never_ seen such an expression from her.

"She's gonna hurt you."

He snorted:

"I think you have it backwards – I'm the one who can hurt her."

Raina tilted her head to the side:

"Because you always hurt people you care about?"

He felt as if he was punched.

"Skye has certain _pureness_ to her – which appeals to you. At the same time she lived not the easiest life – full of abandonment and disappointment. And it appeals to you too. You think she will _understand_ you."

He struggled to maintain neutral expression.

"But even if she does – do you think she will _accept_ you for who you are? You may not _be_ different, but you _see_ the world differently."

"Why's that a problem?"

Raina leaned forward and took his hand:

"Because while you can keep your disagreement to yourself – after all you do it always – she sees only black and white."

Grant shook his head:

"She's not as naïve as you think."

"She's naïve enough." Raina squeezed his fingers. "Besides haven't you had enough of trying to please others?"

Grant frowned:

"I'm not trying to please Skye."

"You are. Other people shouldn't _define_ you."

Grant intertwined his fingers with Raina's:

"Even if you're using me – thank you…for _this._ " He squeezed her hand and let it go.

Raina sighed and gave him the tablet:

"Agent McBraid called. Said you should see this."

Grant took it and read in black bold letters "Alien imposter in charge of SHIELD?"

He scrolled down – to Phil Coulson's photograph.

Raina perplexedly looked at him:

"What is this?"

Grant smiled:

"It's my ticket to Skye's heart. And your ticket to your people."


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Thank you all very much! Thank you for your comments!  
> Next update will be in about two weeks – sadly I can't write faster.
> 
> I hope this chapter won't disappoint.
> 
> Any of the opinions voiced by the characters are not the ultimate truth (or even necessarily reflect my opinions) – they are my interpretations of what the characters would probably do.  
> If you want to, I will appreciate your thoughts on whether they are in character (especially Grant and Skye).  
> If any of the created by me OCs are getting to much screen time – please write if you don't like it and why.
> 
> I hope you will enjoy twelfth chapter.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything but probably plot :) - if you recognize something, it's probably not mine. All rights belong to their owners.  
> Some phrases are from Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. season 1 episode 8 "The Well", season 1 episode 21 "Ragtag" and "The Avengers" (and one paraphrased from "Ronin").  
> The process of becoming a "PJ" is known informally as "the Pipeline" or "Superman School".  
> "Chair Force" – Air Force moniker.  
> "NCOs" – noncommissioned officer.  
> "Echo Echo" – Escape and evade.
> 
> Cross-posted at fanfiction.net - s/11701788
> 
> Thank you for reading!

"…Maria Hill, employee of Stark Industries, former Deputy Director of SHIELD is still refusing to comment on the nature of the project T.A.H.I.T.I. and its former head and participant Phil Coulson, currently leading terrorist organization known as SHIELD…"

Grant stopped the video and looked on a timer – two minutes:

"Fifty four, McBraid? It's positively scandalous. Come on, agent Reznikoff did _sixty five._ "

Disgruntled Hydra agents scrambled up from the floor where they were doing push-ups.

"The rest of you is not even worth mentioning."

"We weren't in Superman school, sir." Agent Sullivan whined in his and his teammates' defense.

"Resnikoff wasn't too." Although, unlike other agents she had a _drive._ Sullivan scowled but refrained from saying anything else.

Reznikoff frowned:

"Superman school?"

Before her American brothers-in-misery could have explained Grant declared:

"Your physical condition is abysmal." If they were going to be his back-up, Grant was making them the best possible back-up. "I am enforcing training regime - until you've reached certain standards."

Hydra agents suspiciously stared at him but Reznikoff looked resigned:

"What those would be, sir?"

"Ask McBraid." Agent in question squirmed under heated glares and then agent Jimenez blurted out:

"But that's impossible, sir!"

Grant raised an eyebrow:

"Are you actually admitting that the Chair Force is better? I thought that you guys were the toughest bastards in the world." Grant paused and theatrically exclaimed:

"Wait, that's _Marines,_ not you."

McBraid flinched. Four former Army NCOs weren't brave enough to glare at Grant so they settled on him.

"You can compose your schedule after you make a trip to New York."

"Sir? You ordered us to stay as far away from the Avengers as we can manage without leaving the state."

"My orders haven't changed, agent Reznikoff. Your objective is UN headquarters. And FBI office. I want to know how the process of creating "multi-national police force" is going." And what dear Christian was up to.

With last days' excitement Grant lost him from the view - and he didn't like not knowing what Christian's plans were. Especially now, then their worlds were close to each other for the first time in fifteen years.

Grant wanted to make the inevitable collusion unforgettable.

ooo

"You're fifteen minutes late, Eve." Grant felt a little giddy and in truth wouldn't have minded waiting even longer. But Skye didn't need to know that. It was bad enough that she already knew that he fancied her.

Fancied? _God,_ he was _so_ done for. And liking every moment of it.

"Fifteen push-ups." Skye abruptly stopped her explanations and gaped at him:

"What?"

"One for every minute you're late."

Skye scowled at him:

"I'm not going to jump at your ridiculous instructions."

Grant smiled:

"You're free to ignore my _orders_ \- if you don't want to learn how to protect yourself and others."

Skye huffed but shook off her coat and dropped to the floor.

Grant allowed himself to admire her training outfit before eyeing Jessica who timidly waved at him from the door to the warehouse, a teenage boy hiding behind her:

"Ten more for bringing unauthorized persons."

Skye who was in the process of assuming the position lifted her head up:

"Unautho...where do you think I should have left them?!"

Grant shrugged:

" _Maybe_ in the car? And you can start any time now."

Skye moved down once and pushed up:

"I feel better if they're in my sight - 24/7. Surely you can understand, _Connor._ "

"I'm sorry, but I thought you called him "Austin?" Jessica cringed under Grant's and Skye's glares:

"Sorry."

"It's Connor. Connor Austin." Grant supposed it could have been worse. "Push-ups aren't going to do themselves, Eve. And I suggest you keep nanomask on at all times."

Skye mumbled something no doubt uncomplimentary under her breath and rose a second time.

Grant looked Jessica over. She was the only assistance Skye had so she might as well become useful:

"And what are you waiting for? Personal invitation?"

Jessica pointed at herself:

"Me?"

Grant sighed:

"Yes."

She hesitated, looked at Skye and joined her on the floor.

The kid fidgeted under Grant's scrutinizing stare and defiantly lifting his chin crossed arms – with elbow length gloves hiding electrical green and yellow scales according to his Hydra file.

Grant turned his eyes to Skye:

"I appreciate the view, Eve, I do, but lower your lovely backside." Skye glared at him but struggled to...lower...

Focus, Grant.

Kid snorted, his mother disapprovingly glanced at him and made him straighten - oh, so she wasn't shy all the time. She tried and failed to do the same with him and he decided he had enough:

"What's your ability?"

Skye stiffened, Jessica _did not_ while the kid angrily set his jaw.

Interesting.

"Push-ups, _Skye._ " Having successfully returned her to the task Grant came closer to Jessica and squatted down:

"So what your son can do?"

She exasperatedly sighed at her kid's protests and answered:

"He always knows which way is north."

Grant barely suppressed an urge to laugh. Hydra spent _so much_ resources and effort on capturing the kid and what he actually did was impersonate a goddamn _compass?_

Grant managed in a completely straight voice:

"Which north?"

Jessica looked puzzled.

"Geographical or magnetic?"

"Magnetic." Skye breathed between her exercises and suspiciously watched him.

Like he was going to misuse that information somehow.

Wait.

 _Of course_ he could.

Grant stood and went to one of boxes haphazardly strewn across the room. Somewhere in where was...yes.

Grant presented the kid with a notebook and a pencil:

"Time for homework. I'm sure you've missed it." Kid didn't look appreciative of Grant's suggestion. "I want you to write down every idea - however crazy - about the ways your ability can be used." Still not enthusiastic. "And then I show you how it can be weaponized."

Kid's eyes lit up. Notebook was snatched from hands.

Behind Grant noises of horrified disagreement could be heard.

He turned:

"Do you want him to be killed?" Skye shut up. Jessica looked ready to argue. "For having a power he doesn't even know how to use to his advantage?"

Skye murmured:

"Not everything can be turned into a weapon, Robot."

Grant smiled:

"Oh, you're _wrong,_ Eve. And that's why you get homework, too - write down ways in which everyday objects can be used as weapons."

Skye stopped in disbelief:

"I'm way past school age, Mr.-I-am-giving-orders."

"I'm training you, which makes me your supervising officer and you...my _rookie._ "

Grant enjoyed the sight of her dropped jaw – he _was_ capable of coming up with nicknames.

"And your stance is terrible." He sighed. "Seems you'll have to keep redoing your push-ups until they're proper."

He enjoyed fire in her eyes even more.

ooo

Hydra's new HQ looked like a war zone after ceasefire was called. Scientists hurried around with _important stuff_ to do and treated security as free pack mules. To the latter ones offended dismay.

Excellent time to do some illegal activities.

Like place bugs in Bobbi's domain.

Bakshi would no doubt came up with plans to catch the mole and Grant wanted to know each of them.

ooo

Entering office room Bobbi raised an eyebrow upon seeing him:

"Shouldn't you be resting?"

"I'm _fine._ " Well, if no one in the near future would punch him in the ribs. Or collarbone. Or ankle.

Bobbi fidgeted with a file in her hands and dropping it on a table crossed her arms:

"Listen, about Dr. Simmons..."

"You don't have to explain, Bobbi - you were doing your job. I understand."

"But I was too hasty - and the real mole only benefitted from my actions."

Grant shrugged:

"You can't foresee every possibility."

Bobbi sighed and wryly smiled:

"Thanks...Speaking of possibilities – do you think Dr. Simmons will accept my apologies?"

"It probably depends on the state of Dr. Turgeon."

Bobbi cringed and pleadingly looked at Grant.

No. He shook his head. He wasn't getting involved in this. He _wasn't._

" _Please._ " Damn, didn't Bobbi know that puppy eyes were unbecoming of an agent?

"I'll speak to her." When did he get appointed as a mediator?

ooo

"Place these here, careful!" Frustrated Hydra operatives' faces became hilariously blank as Grant leaned on the wall behind Jemma. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, Dr. Simmons." Dissonant choir imitation by Hydra agents was amusing.

Jemma's back became stiff and then she exclaimed:

"Grant!" And having turned around jumped up and hugged him.

Hydra agents quietly vacated the corner of the lab.

He hugged her back and released:

"How's relocation?"

Jemma deeply inhaled and twisted her hands:

"It's awful. So many projects had to be put on hold and now they need to be re-started and I'm supposed to oversee all of them - and know all details..."

Grant gently caught her wrists:

"You can do it, Jemma."

"How you can be sure?" She bit her lip. "I never was in charge of something so big - or so many people. What if I..." She trailed off.

"Will not meet expectations?" Jemma stiffened. Grant pulled her closer and freeing one hand tipped her chin up. "You don't _have to._ "

She disbelievingly met his gaze:

" _Of course_ I have to..."

"Why? Because people expect perfection from you?" Jemma frowned:

"I'm one half of FitzSimmons, I had two PhDs before I even was legally an adult, and Dr. Whitehall chose me to replace Kenneth – I'm..."

"Can't be anything less than perfect? Jemma, you are you, you don't owe it to anyone to live up to all the hype surrounding you. Do your best but don't drive yourself insane struggling for an ideal."

No one was going to appreciate it. Grant was always compared to Romanoff – always coming in second. He wasn't bitter about it just...

Why couldn't John have been proud of him being him? Without mentioning Romanoff all the damn time.

Jemma pouted. Well, time to change the topic.

"How's Kenneth?"

Jemma's face fell:

"Doctors wouldn't let me see him before they took him away. He's alive that much is obvious but...How could she be so..." She floundered for a description.

"You mean Bobbi?"

Jemma nodded:

"One moment she's joking and laughing and next one – torturing people."

"She's a specialist. Same as me."

Jemma stubbornly disagreed:

"No, you're not. You...you _protect_ – me, Donnie, even _her_ \- you're trying to reconcile us, aren't you?"

Grant felt sudden pang in his chest – hopefully it wasn't his lung in trouble again.

How could Jemma draw such a wrong conclusion about him?

"I'm a _spy,_ Jemma, a specialist. I do whatever is necessary for a success of a mission. Do you think my reputation is just an exaggeration?"

Jemma turned her wrist which he forgot he still was holding and took his hand:

"I'm not stupid. I know _who_ are you and _what_ you do. But Grant – you're more than just a killer."

Change of topic was required _immediately._

"Bobbiwants to apologize. Will you give her a chance?"

Jemma shook her head:

"I won't speak to her. She can apologize to Kenneth. She _should._ And to you. Me – she didn't do anything – just scared."

Damn. He underestimated Jemma's anger about her friend.

"You both work in the same building, you can't ignore her."

Jemma's stubborn expression plainly said that she could _try._

 _God,_ he was surrounded by children.

ooo

Eva Correa was moved in a room in a care unit and Grant was eavesdropping on her and McBraid.

Of course Grant could have waited for the report from agent Reznikoff _after_ McBraid visited his friend but he wanted to see what was so special about agent Correa to the guy.

And, well, he got tired of Bobbi and Jemma addressing each other with ever increasing politeness _in_ _third person. And_ they refused to speak without someone else present. He drafted bewildered Donnie to play a goddamn messenger instead of him and ran away.

Er, executed tactical retreat.

"...and I kind of got transferred." Boring conversation finally started improving.

"Oh, no. Where?"

"Don't worry. I'm still stateside - in HQ actually."

"Really? That's wonderful! It's an honor to be so close to our leadership."

God, he _knew_ he wouldn't like the conversation - he never could stand "true believers".

"Um, it gets even _more_ honorable - I've met the "golden boy."

Grant rolled his eyes - McBraid just got himself additional physical exercises.

" _Harvey._ "

"Um, I'm sorry? But really, Eva, he's even more of a jerk than the other guys were saying. I mean, he's cool but one crazy motherfucker. And scary."

" _Harvey._ "

"What? Don't look at me like that!"

"You haven't smart-mouthed to him?"

"Kinda."

" _Har..._ "

"He didn't kill me, did he? And he seemed to enjoy me back talking anyway."

"Your stubbornness...Just be careful, okay. I'm stuck here and won't be able to watch your back, kid."

"I think these good drugs is muddling your brain, ma'am - it's _my_ job to watch _your_ back."

"I was an _officer,_ not an _invalid._ "

"Whatever you say, ma'am."

"Brat. Just be careful, okay? No need for heroics."

"Yes, Eva – you know me."

"Exactly, kid. And you don't have to prove anything."

"I'm not trying..."

"Especially to me. I'm proud of you - _already._ And not going to _stop_ being proud."

Grant suddenly felt light-headed and moved away from the door.

So she was crazy in addition to being a "believer". Then again she _must_ have been crazy to seriously buy all Hydra's ideological bullshit.

People never were proud of somebody unless those somebodies proved their worth again and again.

ooo

McBraid startled at the main entrance of the hospital:

"Sir?"

Grant got up from a bench:

"Let's take a walk."

After walking away several blocks from the hospital Grant broke the tense silence:

"What's the result?"

"FBI office is chosen as a headquarters for the new department. It's not named yet or anything, really. They threw together some federal agents who encountered us and UN wants to include other nations' law enforcement, too." McBraid gave him a flash drive. "It's what we found out about the possible members of the task force, sir. But unless Senator, um, Massachusetts one, will be as pushy in meetings as he was on the news, it could take weeks before they agree on something."

And Christian would be _very_ "pushy". And SHIELD had no leverage to use against him – all records on Grant were destroyed. Electronic ones – courtesy of Skye, most of physical copies – by Grant himself. And the ones he missed were no doubt _obliterated_ by Christian.

Well, it seemed Grant just _had_ to help in this undertaking.

But right now he wasn't able to concentrate on it.

"Does she know you could care less about the "new world order?"

McBraid rubbed his throat:

"I don't understand…"

"Don't bother lying, just answer."

He dropped the hand and coughed before saying:

"She thinks I don't like the methods, not that I…She's not a bad person, she really wants to make the world better."

"She's a _fanatic._ " He winced. "You're afraid that she will find out how you truly feel, aren't you?"

McBraid swallowed:

"I don't want her to be… _disappointed_ in me."

Grant barely stopped his breathing from changing.

"You think she will abandon you? But she said she was _proud_ of you."

McBraid gritted his teeth:

"If you insist on prying into my soul, sir, when, yes, I _am_ afraid. Why? Because my uncle said he didn't have a nephew any longer when I enlisted in the Air Force instead of the Corps."

Well and what did he expect coming from a family who was the fourth generation marines?

 _You're such a disappointment._ Mother's haughty voice took Grant by surprise.

_Confirm what your family believes, what everybody believes - that Grant Ward is weak and worthless._

_Help me! Please! Grant!_

_No one's gonna believe you._

_Family will be happy to never see you again._

_I believe you can do it._

_I couldn't be prouder if you were my own._

Grant squeezed his temples and exhaled.

_Your family doesn't define you._

_Other people shouldn't define you._

Grant leaned on his knees.

"Sir? Are you okay?"

"I'm _fine._ " Grant straightened. "Why did you do it?"

"W-what?"

"Chose the Air Force."

McBraid looked at his hands, then at Grant:

"I wanted to be a hero. But I wanted to save lives, not take them."

Grant forcefully rubbed his face:

"I've read your Eva's psychological profile, she won't stop caring about you because you disagree with her."

McBraid didn't seem to believe Grant.

Whatever. The guy was lucky enough to have someone crazy to love him unconditionally – Grant would have given _anything_ to have something like that.

And he tried. Oh, God, he tried. Since the day he's met John he did _everything_ he was asked to do. But it wasn't _enough._

It never was enough – not for mother, not for father. Not for John.

But Grant wasn't stupid – he knew people's love was conditional, with exceptions of some oddballs.

If he had to prove he was worthy of affection over and over again, he would do it. He was capable and resourceful. Adaptable.

But these thoughts did nothing to quench his envy or curb his desire to put his hands around McBraid's neck and strangle him and beat his head against the pavement until blood and brains were splattered everywhere – how could he – he _had_ it and didn't _see_ what he had.

Grant forced himself to breathe on count.

He was a _professional,_ not some thug.

ooo

Grant was going to kill Bakshi. Well, he already _was_ planning on getting it done sometime in the future, but _this_ _–_ this just moved him up on the schedule.

Grant found Donnie holed up in the boiler room of all places.

"Hi, mind if I join you?"

Kid slowly rubbed his hands on the drawn up knees and shook his head fixedly staring at the floor.

Grant flopped down next to him. Damn ankle.

"Heard you were going on a mission."

Kid nodded.

He probably considered it an important task, then in reality he was just a bait. Bakshi came up with the classical plan for catching the mole.

The problem was that he was going to use Donnie as one of the sufficiently important targets.

Grant wasn't going to let this opportunity to go to waste.

And the kid already had a lot of rage curling just beneath the appearance of withdrawn and socially inept.

"Don't worry, Dr. Whitehall knows what he's doing. He wouldn't have permitted Bakshi to request your involvement if he thought it would be dangerous."

Kid stiffened.

"And if you still have doubts, I'll keep an eye on you."

Kid looked up and met Grant's gaze.

"I promise."

Kid looked down again.

But Grant _knew_ that it would end in a disaster. He didn't have a proof, just a feeling.

Fear.

Fear for Donnie.

He was so compromised it was _pathetic._

But John wasn't here to say that Grant disappointed him. And even if he would have been – Grant wasn't that scared kid anymore. He knew who he was and he knew what he wanted.

He wanted Jemma and Donnie out of Hydra and not them being puppets hang on strings held by Whitehall.

He wanted Raina to fulfill her destiny - not because she deserved it but because she had one at all.

He wanted Whitehall dead. But no, oh, no, not only that. Death was too quick. Grant wanted him to lose everything he built – his position, his power. And his precious Obelisk, the one and only dream he ever had.

Grant wanted to crush that dream, to destroy every bit of hope of achieving it. He wanted Whitehall to feel what it meant to be unmade and created from the scratch on someone else's demand.

He wanted John to regret leaving him and not appreciating what he did. The sacrifices, the decisions he had to make.

John thought he was abandoned in Saraevo? He didn't know what it meant to be left alone, to be adrift, without purpose, without meaning. Unwanted, valueless, outcast, forsaken.

He wanted his parents dead. And Christian to burn alive. And that house to turn to ash and grime becoming on outside what it was inside. For all world to see. He wanted them to be turned inside out and be shown their true nature. Forced to admit what they were.

He wanted Skye. He wanted her so much it hurt to breathe. He wanted to finally be seen.

He was tired of being denied existing.

For the first time in life he saw himself reflected back – in Jemma, in Donnie, in Raina, in Bobbie. In Skye.

And he wanted them to stay alive.

Grant fidgeted in the space between pipes getting comfortable – he was in for a long sit if Donnie's resolute silence was any indication.

ooo

"I don't want to go."

Patience truly was a virtue. And Grant had at least this one in spades.

"It's like Sandbox all over again. I didn't want to kill these people. Why have I done it?"

"Because you were ordered to."

Donnie flinched and hugged his knees:

"But I didn't want to. I _didn't._ "

His arms started to tremble.

"I know. I believe you didn't want to do it. I believe you, Donnie."

Shaking intensified.

"I'm not lying."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why aren't you like _them?_ "

"Them" must have meant the scientists who poked and prodded trying to find out what gave the kid abilities and put him through exercise after exercise in an attempt to hone his control over cryokinesis.

Control hasn't become much better as Grant gleaned from reports. Donnie still was able to freeze only objects he was in contact with – on an impressive scale, yes, but only through touch.

It was frustrating and soon Whitehall might look aside from his obsession and decide Donnie could be much more useful if taken apart.

The participants of the Project Blizzard certainly wouldn't mind. And Jemma's protests just won't be important enough.

Grant had to change the current situation and fast – Whitehall's permission to use Donnie as a bait for SHIELD said Grant everything he needed to know.

"Why?" Kid's voice was getting higher.

"I don't want to and will not use you, Donnie."

"Why not?" Kid jumped and started pacing. "Everyone else does it!"

"Even Jemma?"

Donnie stilled and clenched his fists. Air around him definitely started getting cooler.

Grant discreetly checked that jamming device was active.

"You may not believe me, but I'm trying to help. Because I _want_ to help. Because you _asked_ me to and I made you a promise."

Donnie was intensely watching him.

"I broke too many times the promise I made to my younger brother - I want a chance to do it right this time. Will you give it to me?"

Donnie looked away:

"If I say no, what will you do?"

He made it _so_ easy. But correcting this weakness was a task for another day.

"I will leave you be. It's your choice, not mine."

Donnie whirled around and struck the wall. Ice crawled from the point of impact, encasing feet after feet of every surface.

The floor under Grant got cold, very cold.

"You _do_ have this choice - at least this one."

Donnie stepped from the wall and sat back next to Grant.

He was rubbing his wrists - slowly and in strict pattern - left first, right, then left one again.

Eventually he clasped his hands:

"What promise did you break?"

Grant forcefully exhaled and said:

"I promised him over and over that I will protect him. That I won't hurt him. But I did."

"Why?" Donnie's face was puzzled - but not disgusted.

"I was afraid. And weak. I let him control me. I let them all."

"Who?"

"My older brother. My parents."

Donnie's fingers were trembling:

"I...I'm the reason my only friend is dead. If I was smarter, if I wasn't that blind and useless...he would have been alive."

Grant laughed - and it was an ugly sound:

"If I was good enough, then maybe mother would have loved me. If I was brave enough, then maybe father wouldn't have thought of me as a waste of space. If I was strong enough, then I would have stood up to Christian and actually protected Thomas. If I was useful enough, then maybe..."

Maybe John wouldn't have left him.

Grant cleared his throat - why did it feel like he couldn't swallow?

"My point is - don't play in "what could have beens". Or you won't be able to move forward - you have to make sacrifices if you want to survive. Do you?"

Trembling abruptly stopped:

"Don't break this promise."

But what Grant heard was _don't betray my trust._

"I won't."

But what he meant was _thank you for giving me a chance._

ooo

Grant got an interesting dilemma – certainly the first one of this type in his life – on the one hand Donnie finally exhausted himself with worrying and fell asleep, on the other hand – he was sleeping on _Grant's shoulder._

Grant tried to stand without waking him but he almost slid down. Grant caught the kid and propped between himself and the wall.

Damn, if his shoulder was fully functional...or his ankle...

He hated to admit it but he needed help.

He fished the phone out and texted Bobbi.

ooo

"Oh my God, this is so _cute._ " Cooing whisper in Bobbi's rendition grated on nerves.

And then it got worse. She pulled out her phone and positioned it to take a photo.

"Don't you _dare._ " Grant tried to cover his face but Donnie started sliding again and bam – smug Bobbi was pocketing blackmail material.

Fine, she _asked_ for it.

"If this picture is leaked - everyone will find out that your taste in men is appalling."

Bobbi scowled. Grant smiled:

"Even Toshiro Mori was better - not much but better."

Bobbi crossed her arms and smirked:

"Suppose I won't listen to you, what – you'll show Hunter's photo to my subordinates? They will congratulate me for landing such a hot guy."

Grant made a face - he will leave the question of idiot's attractiveness to women - hm, maybe he'll ask Jemma and Raina - but...

"Is he really _that_ good that you married him because of it? Come on, Bobbi, you're not that shallow. There must have been some hidden qualities - as unlikely as it is."

Bobbi sighed with exaggerated annoyance:

"No, I _am_ that shallow. Now, do you want to be freed from the title of the favorite pillow or not?"

Well, damn, she really _had been_ in love with the clown. Maybe had some sympathies still.

Grant didn't understand it but...heart wants what it wants.

ooo

After they deposited the kid in his room - process which involved some sneaking around and Bobbi's grumbling that she will have to erase some security feeds because no way did she want to be laughed at - they crushed at Bobbi's new place.

She hadn't yet unpacked completely but even with all the chaos of moving in her apartment looked as real lived-in home.

Or as close to it as a specialist ready to leave at a moment's notice could afford - no personal photos, no treasured mementos.

Still her place looked as a normal person's - one who had a life.

One who almost had a family of her own.

Grant disbelievingly eyed the glass of orange juice which Bobbi put in front of him.

"Don't make that face - you supposed to be on painkillers."

Grant was annoyed - he wasn't suicidal, he knew his limits - but he was starting to get impression that people said stuff like that because they were worried about others, not because they thought them incapable of taking care of themselves.

It was nice.

"And what are you doing – ghosting in corridors? You're on medical leave."

Just not in large doses.

Wait, wait _and_ …

"I was bored."

Bobbi choked on her beer - _yes._

She coughed and forcefully put a bottle on a table:

"You did it on purpose, didn't you?"

Grant innocently smiled. Bobbi wasn't impressed:

"You were _bored_ – after jumping on quinjets, blowing skyscrapers and running circles around both SHIELD and Hydra?"

And carrying out improvised rescue missions.

"Then you describe it _that_ way..."

Well, he was always living dangerously, it was nothing new.

But he never had that many goals before. And his plans never had to be adjusted so often. And he never had stakes placed so high.

"I'm not what anyone would call _normal._ "

Bobbi huffed:

"I'm a specialist, too, if it slipped your mind, pretty boy."

Grant shrugged:

"You live as normal as you can. You were married for God's sake!"

He rubbed his eyes.

Keep yourself together.

"And then I lost him." Bobbi drank the bottle to the bottom. "You're not the only one who wants _normality_ \- I'm just better at pretending I have it."

She chucked the bottle in a trash can:

"I think we're both too sober for this conversation - you haven't been taking your meds, have you?"

Grant shook his head. Bobbi nodded and pulled a bottle of whisky from a cupboard.

ooo

"So what it was? Don't tell me his sense of humor." Grant was still nursing his glass – he had too many things to do this night.

Bobbi morosely stirred her drink:

"He can be annoying, but he used to make me laugh. And yeah, he's kind of an idiot, and not good at big picture, but – we were good together." She downed her glass in one gulp. "When we weren't driving each other _insane._ "

She refilled her glass:

"You know, he asked me to leave SHIELD and start anew."

"Why didn't you?"

She shrugged:

"It all seemed so important back then – SHIELD, badge, oath…Where could we have been now if I said "yes?"

"Was he worth it?"

"Probably. Sure, he's a mercenary, but generally he's a good guy. Me - on the other hand – a _spy_ …He accused me of keeping secrets all the time but I couldn't…it's just…"

Bobbi gulped down her drink and reached for the bottle. Grant grabbed it moving away from her:

"I think you had enough for today."

She eyed him:

"Why did you it?"

Did he lose a thread of the conversation?

"What exactly are you asking?"

Bobbi sighed:

"Hydra. Why are you here?"

Damn, now he agreed with her that he was too sober for this conversation:

"You're first."

She rolled her eyes but answered:

"I've already spent almost a decade working for Hydra without knowing it. Seemed pointless not to continue."

"You could have become an independent contractor."

"You think I'm in this because of money? I suppose it's foolish but I _need_ to be part of something bigger." She sighed:

"So, your turn."

"Loyalty." The word slipped from his tongue before he settled on some lie. Well, it wasn't the truth, the whole truth.

But it wasn't a lie either.

"Loyalty?" Bobbi raised an eyebrow.

Grant shrugged. He may as well play it through:

"To John Garrett, to Dr. Whitehall."

She narrowed her eyes:

"But not to Hydra."

Grant nodded – even if she runs with it to Bakshi, it won't be news to him – and grinned:

"I was told that my habit of being loyal to people not ideals is ludicrous."

Bobbi looked contemplative:

"And why are you loyal to them?"

"My life gained meaning then I met John – at first I resisted, but I just didn't understand." Come on, Bobbi…

"Understand what?" Her face was calm – damn, she was good.

"That I was lost before – and he gave me purpose." Grant smiled – hopefully he managed serenity. "Now John is busy and so he gave me to Dr. Whitehall."

Bobbi finally reacted – she tried to swallow – couldn't and drank from Grant's forgotten glass with juice.

"Doesn't it bother you?"

"What?"

She vaguely waved her hand around:

"Being _handed over?_ "

"I'm happy to comply." Grant smiled – but the conversation turned not so funny.

Sure, he wanted to know how much of morality Bobbi still had left but instead of creeping _her_ out he made his own skin crawl.

Because if he thought closely about it – he _was_ handed over. From John to Whitehall. _As a possession._

He slowly – very slowly – drank his whiskey.

No, it wasn't funny.

ooo

Grant was exiting Bobbi's apartment building when he felt _something._ He casually walked off – but the feeling didn't return.

Still he did necessary steps to shake off possible tails before getting to a meeting place.

Motel room was dark when he came in.

"Walter Gill is secured, sir." Agent Reznikoff rose from a chair and stood at attention. "The rest of the group will bring him to New York in two hours."

That part taken care of Grant pulled out blank sheets of paper:

"Hope you're ready to continue your sleepless night."

Reznikoff questioningly looked at him.

"Mr. Bakshi came up with forty seven plans which might interest SHIELD enough to warrant an immediate response – one for every suspect. They will be executed simultaneously in six hours. Our mission is to shadow group with Donald Gill – and find ways this plan can go wrong."

Grant started writing down the particulars of the mission.

"Six hours?" Grant fought an urge to roll his eyes – yes, he was aware that they would be able only to skim through if they wanted to leave time for preparations but…he wasn't letting anything happen to Donnie.

"Just imagine the worst possible scenario." He passed her the page.

ooo

Grant parked the car two blocks away from unfortunate – or maybe very fortunate – Hydra agent's house. Passenger side's door opened and McBraid sat inside.

Grant gave him a briefcase:

"Nanomask is already set on – you will just have to remember to respond to name "agent Hines". Memorize the map, then burn it. Questions?"

"You really think SHIELD will be there?"

"Always hope for the best and prepare for the worst." Just without "hope" part.

McBraid nodded:

"I'll protect the kid, sir."

Really, _he_ was calling Donnie "kid"?

ooo

Shelves with cereals filled a whole row – just why people needed so many variations of the same damn thing?

Skye stood indecisive twisting two boxes in hands.

"The one in your left hand is better – not that much sugar." Skye startled and dropped both boxes. Lousy situational awareness – something to work on.

Grant stooped down and picked up colorful boxes.

"I didn't expect robots to know what children eat for breakfast." She snatched box from him – the one which previously was in her _right_ hand. "Wait, did you try to search for spare parts? Oh, Wall-E, toys are not for _robots,_ they're for _children._ "

Unexpectedly it stung:

"You're right, Eve, I'm not a child. I never have been one." Skye flinched:

"I didn't want to bring up your family."

Grant shrugged and put the second box on a shelf:

"Don't worry." He pulled out a slip of paper. "It's for you."

She hesitated for a moment and then carefully took it. With the box under her arm she unfolded the paper:

"What's this?"

"Address of a dropbox – in case you stumble in trouble again."

She smiled:

"Why, _thank you,_ Mr. Austin, whatever would I be _doing_ without you?"

"You're welcome." She pouted at his lack of a reaction. "Just – can you refrain from getting into danger for several days?"

She suddenly became serious:

"You're going somewhere?"

"It doesn't have to do anything with your people – just a friend in need of help."

Skye raised her eyebrows and exaggeratedly opened and closed her mouth:

"Wow, a _friend_ – you actually have them. I mean Raina doesn't count because it's obvious she's even more incapable of it than you. Though – do you two have something? She defended you so _passionately._ "

Grant tilted his head:

"There's only one woman in the world that I want, Skye, and you should know by now who she is."

She tried to cross her arms, almost dropped the box – _again_ – and forcefully threw it into a basket:

"And I told you – _no way._ " She crossed her arms and scoffed:

"Not that it isn't an ego trip – _don't_ get ideas – and I don't want to call our deal off – but can't you find some other object for your… _affections?_ I'm sure you never had any difficulty getting laid."

"Oh, _Skye,_ do you think I just want your body?" Grant smiled.

She doubtfully eyed him:

"Don't tell me you actually _fell in love_ with me."

"You're saying it as if you don't think it's possible."

"It _is_ impossible – guys like you - they, they just don't do things like that."

Grant raised an eyebrow:

"Guys like me? And what do you know about me, Skye?"

"You're a Robot – like a hybrid of T-1000 with Team Seal Six. And a terrorist who wants world dominance in the hands of the bad guys." She paused and added:

"And you talked to Mickey like to a normal kid."

"I shouldn't have?"

Skye rolled her eyes:

"Don't pretend you don't understand – Hydra captures people like me and experiments on us. They don't think we're human beings – reminds you of something, no?"

"First of all, I'm not a Nazi." Reassuringly she looked less disbelieving than before. "Second, they don't care what's in your DNA, who's your ancestors, what's the color of your skin or anything like that. The only thing they care about is whether you could be useful. And how. Unfortunately for your people – it's unusual abilities and how to replicate them. They're don't care who gets in their kingdom come – as long as people obey the rules."

Skye frowned:

"You keep saying "them" – as if you're not a part of Hydra."

Grant couldn't help it – he groaned. He was saying "them" since their first meeting and she noticed only now?

"Do you think I would be doing what I'm doing if I was loyal to them? And third, don't say any specific words like "Hydra" or names or addresses unless you're sure you're not being listened in." He took out the jamming device and showed Skye before pocketing it again. "Or eavesdropped on." He gestured around the deserted in very early morning supermarket.

"Okay, Mr-I'm-a-Superspy, if you're not with…Sauron and his goblin army because you want to live in a better world, when why? Are they the plushy little family you never had?"

He kind of lied to Bobbi when she asked but _Skye_ – he wasn't going to lie to her. He didn't want to.

"You want the truth?"

She nodded.

"At first, I was repaying the debt. There is one guy – he saved me when I thought no one ever will even notice me. But he did – he pulled me out from hell, taught me everything I know – taught me how to be somebody, not just…not just worthless little rag-tag." He wryly smiled:

"Then I did what we worked for I thought we'd leave. _Sauron_ was just means to an end. Was _supposed_ to be just means to an end."

"But what?" Skye stepped closer. "You got in deep and found out you're liked it?"

"No." He vigorously shook his head.

"When why are you still with them?" Skye's eyes were close and Grant's breath hitched – he wanted to stay in this moment with her – forever.

But she was waiting for an answer – and Grant didn't have it.

"I don't know."

She disbelievingly snorted:

"You kill, lie for them – and God knows what else – and you don't even know _why?_ " She gave a short laugh and pressed a hand to her mouth:

"You're _unbelievable._ You told me to run away – to disappear. But I bet you can do it better – why didn't you? I'm sure you could have vanished – and they never would have found you."

He still could do it – _right now._ His heart pounded fast and he felt unsteady for a moment.

Just leave it all, forget and start anew.

It's not like John would care where Grant was.

But – Jemma and Donnie. He couldn't leave them – in Hydra, in Whitehall's control. And Skye – she won't leave her people – and he didn't want to leave her.

He made promises – to Skye, to Jemma, to Donnie, to Raina – and he wanted to keep them. At least this time, he wanted to do it right. He didn't want to let down the only people who against all common sense actually believed he would keep his word.

"I can't leave because there are people who count on me. They need my help. And until I get them out, I will stay."

"You really have friends, don't you?" Skye's voice was soft.

Grant swallowed:

"They're not my friends."

Skye was looking at him with a strange expression and then she smiled – without sarcasm or mocking – smiled _at him:_

"Well, then go help your friend, Wall-E. And try not to die – where will I find another supervising officer?"

Grant understood with painful certainty that he would never love anyone as he loved her.

ooo

Motor was working and P-90 under hand – Hydra team including Donnie was almost near UN headquarters but still no trace of SHIELD.

"Tramp. This is Smurfette. Suspicious activity on north-northwest – white truck with Echidna's logo in four minutes. Over."

Echidna Capital Management? They had facilities worldwide, including New York, but their HQ was in Connecticut.

"Stop it. Over." He had no proof, just doubt.

"Wilco. Out."

And then there was doubt…

Minute later comm cracked:

"They opened fire! Speeding in target's direction. Over."

…there was no doubt.

Damn, two of Reznikoff's agents were disguised as patrol cops – if it was Hydra, they would have stopped – they never brought attention without need.

"Stop them. Out."

Grant put on a simple black mask and changed the channel – secrecy was over anyway:

"Break-Break. This is agent Grant Ward. Abort the mission. Over."

"This is Bravo Blue One. Who is this? Say again."

"This is agent Ward. Abort the mission. Over."

"Quinjet on target's twelve!"

"Bravo Bravo. Quinjet on your twelve! Evacuate! Evacu…"

Gunfire interrupted transmission. Grant sped up in the direction of the ambushed team.

"Tramp, Tigger. Covering the target. Out."

He drove the van in the middle of the gunfight between two parties and opened fire at SHIELD agents. Side doors slid open and Hydra agent in full tactical gear threw Donnie inside and joined Grant in shooting through the van's windows. The rest of Hydra team dragged themselves in while agent Sullivan distracted SHIELD with rifle rounds.

"Tramp, Smurfette, truck is stopped. Ove…quinjet on your nine!.."

Grant turned the vehicle on the left but wasn't fast enough to outmaneuver suddenly uncloaked aircraft that overturned them with the bursts of air from the engines. The van fell on its right side and then they were propelled with rasp by the quinjet which hit the van in the bottom.

"…towards truck…irty meters…truck…thirty meters…"

"Brace for the impact!" Grant tensed.

The roof of the van caved and they finally stopped.

"Five enemy at your nine in forty meters. Police in two minutes .Fall back ten meters. We're covering you. Over."

"Wilco. Everybody out!" Grant unbuckled and kicked at windshield.

The van rammed in the truck and Reznikoff's agents were shooting at SHIELD from behind the patrol car when Grant rolled out of the front window.

He briefly looked over Hydra agents confirming that Donnie was securely under McBraid's watch and the rest were mobile.

They tried to run to the "police" car but the quinjet opened fire forcing them to stay at the crashed vehicles – automatic weapons were poor comparison to the aircraft's machine gun. But the quinjet hasn't fired at _them_ – hopefully Reznikoff's agents survived – Grant gestured for Hydra operatives to cover him and run to the overturned truck's front.

The driver has already regained consciousness and tried to shoot but Grant knocked him out and tore his mask.

Damn, Lance Hunter in the flesh.

There was pounding from inside the truck.

"Open the doors!"

Nearest Hydra agents nodded and soon truck's doors were broken and Grant saw four tied up people – presumably Hydra – and _Leo Fitz_ – that's why SHIELD wasn't shooting at them.

SHIELD agent reached for his sidearm but Grant grabbed him in a shoulder lock and ordered Hydra agents:

"Untie them!"

One of the captured shouted then the duct tape from her mouth was ripped off:

"We have a very dangerous cargo and SHIELD did something to it!"

Damn, the situation got even better.

Grant passed Fitz to operatives and opening a container cursed – "dangerous cargo"? What was _wrong_ with people – a nuclear warhead can't be classified as just _dangerous._

Grant closed the container and ordered Hydra agents to take it.

"Police inbound – thirty seconds!" They made second attempt to get to Reznikoff's people who managed to survive the assault while their car was riddled with bullets. Grant dragged Fitz out having pressed the gun to his temple and if that wasn't enough other agents had Hunter and the freaking nuclear bomb – the quinjet's pilot lifted and cloaked not risking hitting at least one of these targets.

They run half the distance to Reznikoff's people and to just arrived second getaway car with agent Jimenez then police vehicles burst in and opened fire.

Grant ducked behind parked cars and glanced around – office, dry cleaner, office, bank – yes, the only closest place with a back entrance to another street.

He ordered agents inside and under ongoing gunshots they rushed past screaming and panicking people to the exit.

The Hydra agent in the lead opened the back door just as in Grant's comm Reznikoff shouted:

"Quinjet outside!"

"Get down!" Grant threw Fitz on the floor and covered him as unfortunate Hydra operative exploded in the fountain of blood and bullets.

"Get back! Back!" They crawled out of kill zone and in the bank's main room.

Cops were keeping Reznikoff's agents down, at the back was the psychotic SHIELD pilot – has the fucking idiot forgot about his own people?! - and Grant pointed at the cowering bank visitors:

"Grab these people – grab everyone in this bank and get them in this room! Secure perimeter!"

He ordered in his comm:

"Retreat! Echo Echo! Silence. Out."

Grant looked at Donnie - who was shell-shocked and unresponsive but unscathed in McBraid's grip, - at Hydra agents who started dragging terrified civilians in the center of the bank's lobby and securing other rooms, at Fitz and Hunter who were already being tied up, at Echidna's employees who clutched at their hazardous cargo and his only thought was that his worst case scenario certainly lacked imagination.

McBraid's voice broke him from his contemplations:

"What are we going to do, sir?"

"Improvise."


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! I'm sorry it took me almost a month. Thank you all very much! Thank you for your comments! I appreciate them and your attention!  
> Next update will be after two to three weeks – depending on whether real life will be demanding again.  
> I hope this chapter won't disappoint.  
> Any of the opinions voiced by the characters are not the ultimate truth (or even necessarily reflect my opinions) – they are my interpretations of what the characters would probably do.  
> If you want to, I will appreciate your thoughts on whether they are in character (especially Grant and Skye).  
> If any of the created by me OCs are getting too much screen time – please, write, if you don't like it.  
> If you want to ask questions, I will appreciate them very much. If you want to, you can ask me on tumblr – tmrlan (although, I'm frequently blocked there).  
> I hope you will enjoy thirteenth chapter.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything but probably plot :) - if you recognize something, it's probably not mine. All rights belong to their owners.
> 
> Some phrases are from Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. season 1 episode 20 "Nothing Personal", season 1 episode 21 "Ragtag", season 1 episode 22 "Beginning of the End", season 2 episode 1 "Shadows", season 2 episode 6 "A Fractured House" and a quote by Ralph Nader.
> 
> Echidna Capital Management is a venture capital firm, committed to funding businesses on the cutting edge of several key areas: genetic engineering, new media, nanotechnology, next-generation military systems, and aerospace engineering & manufacturing. (marvel wikia )  
> "Sneguronok" is like a male version of Snow Maiden (from Russian).  
> Barrett M107 is a semi-automatic anti-materiel rifle, also used as an anti-personnel sniper rifle. It is also called the "Light Fifty" for its .50 BMG (12.7×99mm NATO) chambering.
> 
> "_" shows the dialogue through texting. Also assume that the part of the dialogue between two characters is held in Russian, even though I gave the transcription only for the first line. Translations are given in the text in brackets ().
> 
> WARNING! Blood and mentions of non-con (canon, yes, it's about Lorelei). The scene containing these subjects is marked by bold scene breaks ooo. I don't know if the mentions of blood will be disturbing enough to warrant warning, or mentions of non-con will be triggering – please, let me know, if my warnings are adequate.
> 
> And I apologise in advance for one of insults thrown by one character - yes, it's deliberate.
> 
> Cross-posted at fanfiction.net - s/11701788
> 
> Thank you for reading!

"Ladies and gentlemen, this is not a robbery." Unfortunate bank visitors were gathered in the center of the bank's lobby and half-hysterical after being caught up in a firefight in addition to being manhandled at a gunpoint.

"This is a hostage situation. And there are certain rules - stay calm, follow orders, don't try to escape, don't try to be a hero. You're my leverage and I need you alive. However, if you cause trouble, I will take actions against you. Do not doubt my ability to kill any of you in cold blood."

Grant looked scared people over and concluded:

"Do as I say and I will do everything possible to get us - all of us - out of this alive."

Grant nodded to agent Parsons, the leader of the today's botched up mission:

"My people will search you, take every items in your possession except necessary medicine. Now would be a good time to inform us if you have any serious medical conditions."

He was met with terrified silence.

Okay, one step at a time.

Grant nodded to Hydra agents to start frisking their hostages and summoned Parsons:

"After you're done, Hines will check them for injuries."

"Hines?" Hydra agent was confused.

"He's not really "Hines". Be sure to share it with others." Grant briefly looked at McBraid who was trying to get Donnie to drink something hot. "If the phone calls while I'm busy, let him answer. Blindfold hostages and tie them to each other. Don't let them talk with each other and don't do it yourself. Don't answer questions, don't take off masks. Divide your agents in shifts."

"We're going to be here for long, aren't we, sir?"

"Yes, so be prepared." Hydra agent nodded:

"Hail Hydra."

Grant let himself wince under the cover of the mask and said:

"And drop saying that – we're not here on Hydra's behalf."

Agent Parsons nodded the second time after a brief moment of indecision and Grant moved to Donnie.

The kid was clutching the cup and actually looked present.

McBraid quietly got up and came over:

"He's a little shaken but getting better."

"Okay." Grant got in this mess trying to keep the kid safe. And he had no idea how to get Donnie out.

He can't think that. He will come up with something. He will.

"After they're done, check our prisoners for any injuries and find out about possible medical problems."

"Yes, sir." McBraid glanced at Donnie who was still nursing his cup.

Grant picked a pen from a desk and tore a page from a nearby calendar:

"If someone calls and I'm not in the room, I want you to answer." He quickly sketched out the basic points:

"Say these. Act scared and a little hysterical."

McBraid hesitantly took the offered page:

"Me, sir?"

Grant sighed:

"Yes, you. I heard your performance in Philadelphia. A little over the top but not that bad."

Agent opened his mouth, then closed it, nodded and went to other Hydra agents and hostages.

Grant crouched next to the chair in which Donnie sat:

"Hey, how are you?"

Kid looked up:

"You came."

Grant suddenly felt queasy:

"I made you a promise."

"Yeah, but you don't have to continue." Donnie rubbed his face balancing the cup on his knee. "We're in deep trouble – and it won't be fair to ask you to keep me alive in such situation."

Grant felt even worse.

"I'll get us out, Donnie. _I will._ " Maybe if he said it enough times, he'd start believing in it. "But I need your help."

He gave Donnie a slip of paper and a phone:

"Can you tune it to these frequencies?"

He got an irritated glare in answer:

"I'm the youngest since FitzSimmons to enter the Academy _._ "

Well, that was better.

Grant smiled and clapped kid on the shoulder:

"Okay, genius. And keep that mask on."

Getting up he went to Echidna employees:

"With me."

He led them to a lounge room and closed the door.

"Do you know what is in the container?"

"Parts for a thermoelectric generator."

The _what?_

"Come again?"

The only woman in the quartet bit her lip:

"That's our cargo – heat sources. For generators. They're radioactive or something – dangerous. But SHIELD agents did something to it…"

Grant interrupted:

"Are you scientists?"

The four Hydra agents shook their heads.

Damn.

His day just got better.

"I want you to write down everything important about yourself and your mission."

Whatever SHIELD intended to do, it certainly had to do with implicating one of Hydra's front companies. While Grant didn't care about the safety of Hydra's money, he was pissed off at SHIELD.

"Then you're going back there and do your best to pretend to be hostages - you're just simple workers of a simple corporation being kidnapped by two SHIELD agents. You're not a part of Hydra or SHIELD, you don't know anything about them beyond what the news tell you and you are most certainly not supporting Hydra. Or SHIELD. Questions?"

They shook their heads and Grant left them to their task.

Coming to Parsons he quietly instructed:

"Make a list of our ammo. After they finished writing, bring their reports to me. And tell your people to treat these four as hostages."

Grant observed the growing pile of personal things on the floor, tense Hydra operatives, Donnie immersed in an appropriated laptop and went to SHIELD agents who were tied up apart from the rest.

"How's life, Dr. Fitz, Mr. Hunter?"

Bobbi's ex-husband glared:

"Marvelous. How about you untie me and it'll become even better?"

Grant exaggeratedly sighed:

"I'll have to decline – otherwise there's gonna be a dead body – _your_ body – and _someone_ might become upset. I don't want to make her sad."

Annoying idiot scoffed:

"Don't be so sure that _I_ will be the one to end up dead. And don't pretend that demonic bitch would care anyway – she's probably going to laugh while you two are screwing."

Okay, he just got promoted to an asshole.

"We're not sleeping together. And believe it or not I will try not to kill you – for her." Well, he'll make an effort. Not a big one, but still. "And it will be in your interest to not say out loud any of the names like, for example, "Bobbi", "Jemma." Grant paused. "Better just don't say _any_ names."

"Or what?"

Grant let amusement slip in his tone:

"Or someone will get hurt. And no, I'm not talking about _you._ " Grant nodded at the hostages.

Annoying asshole paled and opened his mouth.

"Tsk tsk." Grant wagged a finger at him. "No self-righteous fury. No smart-ass insults. No sound _at all_ – I know it's gonna be _hard_ for you – but _don't talk._ "

Ignoring death glare Grant turned to Fitz:

"I'm sure you've missed me." SHIELD scientist leveled at Grant unimpressed and scornful stare. "Ouch, Leo. _I_ 've missed you for sure."

ooo

Grant closed the door to a bathroom after Hydra agents dragged inside the container. Fitz was defiantly glaring from his position on the floor.

Grant untied SHIELD agent's hands and presented him with a notebook:

"You can write to Jemma."

Fitz suspiciously stared at Grant:

"W-what d-do y-you w-want in return?"

"Aww, Leo. I'm just trying to be an attentive friend – Jemma is feeling a little stressed out. She could use some cheering up."

Fitz took the offered notebook:

"W-what, n-not even a-a qu-question a-about _t-that?_ " He nodded at the container.

"Nope." Grant opened the damn thing.

Something wasn't right. Echidna personnel said it was the heat sources – for a _generator._ And they were probably right. Because it was too much even for Hydra's usual arrogance to let four people escort _that_ without them even being aware what they were escorting. Yes, there was sense in concealing information but…

…unless it was SHIELD who turned it into a nuclear warhead.

Grant grabbed one side of the container and lifted it.

Or something _looking_ as a nuclear warhead.

It was less than twenty lbs. Unless Grant was seriously mistaken – which was a possibility with the subject in question –it wasn't enough for a warhead, the smallest one having weighted fifty.

Grant glanced at Fitz who was already scribbling and looking too smug.

No, he couldn't threaten Fitz – he needed the agent's goodwill to help Jemma. Assuming he would get out of this – and he will. He will.

Grant scowled at the "warhead". SHIELD was trying to bring Echidna Capital Management to public's attention as a Hydra company. Taking that into account it was possible they wanted to scare everyone – and what better way than with a nuclear bomb?

Only Coulson was too deluded for a director of a spy agency. He most certainly insisted on there being zero casualties – unless you counted Hydra agents. But who ever bothered to count them?

Grant unscrewed the outer shell – inside were two cylindrical objects, C4 blocks, wires and a duct tape. A _lot_ of duct tape.

Well, he was right about Coulson. What the bastard needed was a reality check. And if an opportunity presented itself, Grant was more than willing to arrange it.

There was a knock on the door. Grant opened it and agent Parsons gave him much wanted information about the "radioactive sources".

Skimming through the pages Grant turned to Fitz:

"Has Coulson assured you that there will be no collateral damage?"

Fitz tensed but nodded.

Grant said in the most falsely consolatory voice he could manage:

"He shouldn't have promised what he can't guarantee."

Fitz paled:

"Y-you c-can't, it's not…"

"It is. I hope you wrote everything you wanted."

Fitz paled even more.

Well, he didn't need to know that Grant wasn't going to create a dirty bomb. Or even inform the FBI about such possibility.

Grant had a feeling that they would be freaked out enough by "terrorists from SHIELD-slash-Hydra" without any need to scare them into doing anything stupid.

And if situation got worse, plutonium was plutonium, right?

ooo

No. Turns out there actually was a difference.

"…Plutonium-238 is too unstable to be effectively used for a nuclear weapon. Of course, I'm not a nuclear physicist but anyway there's only about three kg – it's not critical mass, you'd need about nine - ten kg. Although, you can reduce it by using neutron reflectors…"

Okay, so he won't be able to scare the SHIELD.

"But it's _radioactive,_ isn't it?"

"It's one of the safest of radioactive isotopes. Because it requires minimal biological protection – this cladding, I assume it's iridium, is enough."

Grant tried to ignore a memory of John's voice pressing into his mind to _never ever_ tangle with a radiation but he didn't succeed:

"Radioactive?"

Donnie groaned – Grant remembered how Raina told him that kid had trouble communicating with anyone below a 170 IQ:

"It's primarily alpha particles, with low levels of gamma and neutron emission…"

"Wait, wait. Gamma?" Grant understood less and less.

Donnie took a deep breath:

"Don't break the shielding – and we'll be good."

"And how durable it is?"

He got a long suffering look in answer:

"These modules should be able to survive launch and re-entry - to _space._ "

Well, it was encouraging – but told Grant nothing about bullet resistance.

"Wait, if it's not that dangerous…" Seeing Donnie's horrified expression Grant hastily added:

"…as long as properly handled, when why Fitz is so nervous?"

Donnie scowled:

"Agent Fitz is worried about inhalation of plutonium dioxide in case the modules break apart. You know, _a pound of plutonium dust can kill 8 billion people_ and all that."

Grant struggled not to start shaking Donnie:

"Can it?"

Donnie snorted:

"No, of course not. Several millions maybe. From cancer. If they all directly inhale it – which won't be possible anyway considering the weather and the number of people…"

Grant coughed.

"Um, don't worry, these modules are supposed to break into non-inhalable pieces."

This _so_ filled him with confidence.

Well, don't break it – got it.

Also Grant made a note to himself – if you want to scare a scientist with a thing you know next to nothing about, just hint at a threat and they'll work themselves into heart attack by themselves. After all, _they_ are the ones who know exactly how it can go wrong.

ooo

Grant was trying to reach Reznikoff for an hour already without any results. It wasn't a bad thing – they needed to get away from the police, get to a safe house, tend to possible injuries.

So he busied himself with inspection of materials at hand: not as much ammunition as he would have preferred, nothing much useful in the office stationery, promising variety of cleaning products and a lot of duct tape.

Also building's blueprints. And keys to the vault – he had much fun drilling safe deposit boxes open. He became happy owner of hundred grams of cocaine, a fully loaded Beretta, stack of porn magazines, half pack of menthol cigarettes and whole box of stickers with a sharp brand new pencil.

God forbid people will one day start actually making sense.

That was the moment then electricity had been cut off. And heating, too.

McBraid ran inside the vault:

"There's a trouble – a _big_ trouble – Miss Bock's on a phone."

Grant sighed – of all people it had to be _her:_

" _Fröken_ Bock." He gestured for McBraid to remove the nanomask. "What did you do?"

"I hang up."

Probably the best course of action – sadly, Grant couldn't do the same. And he had a feeling that his day was going to get a lot _lot_ worse.

Maybe he shouldn't have published _that_ article?

No, it was essential to the _Plan._ And simply too much fun.

ooo

"Maria Hill to Hydra agents inside. You have 30 seconds to surrender."

Megaphone was a little too much. And Grant really hoped that she wasn't here because Coulson flipped his shit and called her. Because in that case she will…

"You gonna answer me, Ward, or do I have to come over there?"

…yeah, she did it. He would bet she also provided the FBI with information from his file.

Maybe he shouldn't have leaked the information about TAHITI.

He turned the voice synthesizer on, picked up the phone and dialed. After half a minute the call connected:

"Maria Hill. I kind of hoped you were too busy with lawyers and journalists."

"And I hoped you weren't the duplicitous lowlife you turned out to be, but here we are." Her voice was as hard and unyielding as Grant remembered. Too bad, he hoped to drag out the negotiations for as long as he could.

"Gonna be honest with you, Hill. I'm having a pretty bad day. So if I were you, I'd get the hell out of here."

"Mm, give up the hostages – all of them, and we'll talk about it."

"Yeah, that's not happening."

"You know, I never liked you, Ward, not since our first sit-down, but I never figured you for John Garrett's lapdog."

She _went there._ She _actually_ went there. In addition to blowing his cover she also gave the FBI more detailed information about John.

John wouldn't like that Grant was the reason for it.

Fuck John.

And fuck Hill.

"A lot of us lost respect for Fury when he picked you as his second. If he needed eye candy around, he could have at least picked Romanoff."

He heard her not-really-amused laughter in answer – hopefully that stung:

"That's funny. I'll tell her you said that." Really, Hill, threatening him with Romanoff? As if he had any chance of staying alive after _he lied to Romanoff and succeeded in convincing her to stand up for him._

"Now hand the hostages over, or I'll have a squad of SWAT knock you on your ass."

"You know that I will turn it into a bloodbath. Is that what you want?"

"I know exactly what you're capable of, Ward. I evaluated you myself."

"Yeah, you did. How did you manage to vet me? Shouldn't you have noticed something? Have a suspicion, doubt, anything?"

"Gloat all you want, it's far easier to lie then no one knows what questions to ask."

"You mean Hydra infiltrating SHIELD? From the very foundation and for almost seventy years? Yes, that requires exceptional blindness to miss something of this magnitude. What was it? Oh, yes, _the single greatest intelligence collapse in recorded history._ "

"That must mean a lot to a psychopath such as you to have participated in it – all this pride, power, dominance. Do you get off after leaving another massacre? Like the one you left at the Fridge – it was _carnage._ "

Really, that's the best she came up with?

"No, Hill. I'm doing my job."

"Betraying your friends, your colleagues, your nation – and murdering people? That's what you call a _job?_ "

 _God,_ she walked in this one herself – Grant was only doing her a favor:

"Stop playing for an audience, Hill. You were always honest about nature of our job. You're not Coulson, so save me from a moral outrage. You had no trouble ordering me to lie and kill. To do the same job SHIELD taught me how to do."

"No, it's _you_ who plays for an audience – always have been. Like then you accused your family of abusing you. Are you really that pathetic that you have to always play a victim to make people sympathize, stand with you?"

Grant forced himself to continue breathing normally. He won't give her the satisfaction of hearing that her jibe pierced through.

He can't think about it - he'll deal with it when he can really return to it.

And that time is not now.

"Re-read my profile? You've done your homework. But how sure are you that any word of it is true?"

"I made a detailed assessment…"

"Yes, yourself, we all heard it the first time – the one in which you draw under my _people skills_ a deformed body with knives stabbed in it?"

"It was a porcupine." _What?_

"Your drawing skills are abysmal." He didn't mean to, it just got blurted out.

"Case in point – you don't…"

"Sorry, I digressed – I mean the same profile in which you gave me the highest marks in espionage since Romanoff?"

"You're not worth even being mentioned in the same sentence as her, least of all being compared to her."

"Ouch, Hill. _You_ were the one who made a comparison, _not me._ And besides, I'm not disputing that she's better than me – almost in everything. Except long undercover missions – in that regard I certainly have more experience."

"The cover of loyal SHIELD agent which you almost blew?"

Damn, did she really have to remind him about the barely avoided disaster when the Asgardian bitch taunted Hill with his dubious loyalty to SHIELD? Thank God her arrogance and love of playing with prey didn't let her actually tell anyone about Hydra.

Otherwise Grant would have been singlehandedly responsible for exposing the longest – and mostly successful – infiltration in history.

Still, if it wasn't for Romanoff, Grant wasn't sure he wouldn't have let something slip during an ensuing interrogation.

"The cover which hold for years and dozens of verifications and tests."

"You're not half as good as you think you are."

"Then come and get me."

"Don't even hope that I'll lower myself to personally taking out the trash like you."

"Oh, yes, I forgot – you have other people to do your dirty work for you. Wait, no, you _don't._ Not anymore. Now _you're_ the one cleaning. After a playboy billionaire, no less. Although, SHIELD was doing it always, so…"

"Funny that you talk about other people doing _my_ dirty work, then you're not even capable of doing your _own_ without help. Like from Jemma Simmons."

No.

"Have you two bonded over betraying SHIELD and causing innocent people to die? You know what – you two found each other. Traitors should stick together – no one else will care about scum as you."

Coulson still persisted about Jemma being a traitor. Did he even understand what the governments will put Jemma's parents through? Hasn't Jemma suffered enough? Haven't they?

"Speaking about scum – sometimes it's not about bad influence, it's about bad seed. Donald Gill was given a chance having been accepted to the Academy. He was given a second one after he almost caused a mass destruction – and what did he do? Joined Hydra."

She just destroyed any chance of Jemma and Donnie ever being able to live unnoticed. If Grant gets them out of Hydra, they will be on the run from Hydra, SHIELD and _every fucking government in the world._

"I've never pegged you for a moron, Hill. Passing judgment before knowing the full picture?"

"What are you on about?"

"Do you know what happened at the Sandbox? No, you don't. And Coulson doesn't. But still he ordered to have Donnie killed. Because a gifted that's not with SHIELD is a _threat._ And threats are taken care of quickly."

"That's how Hydra operates, not SHIELD."

"Really? When what's the Index?"

There was a silence.

"Oh, your new friends don't know what that is, do they? Well, ladies and gentlemen, venerable federal agents, police officers and other all-too-important people, the Index is a list of people considered _different_ by SHIELD simply because of something they have no control over, something which is a part of them and can't be taken away. But they are told they are dangerous – to _society,_ that they are not like the rest of people – _normal people,_ that they have to be tagged and monitored and obey set of rules to continue living the semblance of ordinary life. Or else…Well, there's always the Fridge. There they disappear and no one will even know they were there. No lawyer, no rights…Oops, have I described something different? My apologies, I like history, must have confused something…Wait, no, I haven't. Have I, former Deputy Director Hill?"

"The Index is for _protecting_ these people – from the criminals and terrorists like you – who exploit them and use them…"

"And what have _you_ done to them?"

There was silence again. Then she said:

"If you insist on looking at the whole picture – let me speak with Gill."

"Not gonna…"

"Then I hope you will enjoy _this._ "

The line went dead. And horrifyingly loud sounds blasted into the building.

Electricity, heating, noise. He could bet water was turned off, too.

Well, if she thought that was supposed to impress him – she should have known better.

Riling him up, incensing him with offhandedly flaunting Jemma and Donnie's names before the FBI – she should have been stalling, giving tactical teams time to prepare an assault, help them not risk him executing captives.

She thought he was a Hydra believer, a cold-blooded killer and a psychopath – and still she infuriated him.

What for?

Something wasn't right.

But Grant wasn't going to call her and demand something in return for not killing hostages. She will not back down and Grant had no desire to go through with the threat when it won't even give him some concessions.

And it had nothing to do with his lack of desire to kill any of the hostages.

Nothing at all.

ooo

"Sir!"

Thank God.

"Am I glad to hear you, Smurfette. Report."

"We're all alive. Light injuries. I contacted HQ – not directly - through, uh, Sleeping Beauty."

Grant knew what Whitehall would have said but he still went through the necessity of asking:

"And?"

"We're on our own." There was a pause. "What are our orders?"

"Have you seen the circus?"

"Yes."

"Recon. Report to me. I s etogo momenta vse razgovory tol'ko na russkom." ("And all communications are only in Russian from now on.")

"This is New York, _sir._ "

"My Arabic is not as good as yours and the only word in your fourth language I know is "Acharai". So we're left with Russian."

"Yes, sir."

 _God_ _,_ what was he doing? Yes,she served two years in the army – and after that came to Hydra's security division, but he was relying on a _soldier,_ not a _spy._

But she was all he had.

And he had to make it count.

**ooo**

"What are you doing?" Grant glared at Donnie from the doorway to the lounge room.

Donnie stubbornly set his shoulders and dialed the phone:

"She wants to talk and I have much to say. And this noise is driving me _insane._ "

Damn. The kid eavesdropped on Grant's conversation with Hill. But he will deal with it later. Right now he shouldn't let Donnie speak with Hill - because she wanted it. Quid pro quo - simple.

But why would she want it anyway?

"Maria Hill?"

What gain could she possibly achieve?

"You wanted to talk - I'm listening."

She should have concentrated on him - he was the biggest threat...

 _Threat._ Grant's phone vibrated but he had no time for it. He kicked the table which separated him and Donnie right into the kid and fell on his back.

Donnie toppled from the impact and crushed to the floor.

Blast echoed through the room suppressing the cacophony created by speakers, concrete chips spattered in all directions.

"Don't move!"

Two more shots penetrated the walls, cement dust permeated the air, Grant's phone vibrated madly and that was then screaming started.

Grant extracted the damn phone - missing call and a message "Sniper is gone, injured. Status?"

"Donnie?"

"I'm...I'm fine! _What was that?!_ "

"Don't move."

Grant typed "Me and Sneguronok are safe. Leave, don't touch anything."

He looked up at the jagged holes and added "50 bmg?"

"Yes, barrett m107."

Jesus fucking Christ.

Grant stood, picked the phone from under the table and dialed. The call connected immediately:

"Trying to cross off a nineteen-year-old? Wow, I expected this from SHIELD but the FBI…In any case your assassination attempt failed – don't dare to attack, I'll make you regret it."

He hang up before the overconfident moronic bitch could answer and addressed Donnie who was sprawled on the floor and shaking:

"Donnie, close your eyes and _don't open_ until I say so."

Grant hauled the kid up and opened the door.

Blindfolded and tied hostages presented an utter mess: some were screaming easily cutting through the outside ruckus, some were frozen, some were trying to crawl on the granite tiles and stained themselves with blood.

Hydra agents weren't any better. Mostly they were cowering and several were retching.

Grant glanced at Fitz – unharmed if numb, ignored the asshole and ordered in calm, low voice:

"Get the hostages in the vault. Prepare for an assault."

Parsons unstuck from the wall, wiped his mouth and with trembling fingers rolled the mask back on:

"Yes, sir."

He stumbled but effectively got his people up and moving and Grant shifted his attention to McBraid who was busy inserting a tube in the neck of a woman with heavily bandaged face and head.

"Oh, fuck, fuck, _holy shit_ …" Damn, he told Donnie to close his eyes – Grant sidestepped the incoming mess, passed the kid to Parsons and pulling a tourniquet out kneeled near howling man – the part of his arm lower elbow was a mangled mix of bone fragments and muscle tissue twisted together like ropes.

"Easy there, I'm going to treat your wound, okay?" Grant put the tourniquet on and having fastened the band twisted the rod. The bleeding stopped and glancing at the watch he wrote the time. "That's better, isn't it? Now, I'll dress your wound." The man – in his mid-thirties – didn't answer but also didn't seem to be going in shock despite continued wailing.

Grant took out battle dressing and wrapping it directly over torn clothing looked around – Hydra agents relocated all people and McBraid was taping outer wrapper of a dressing over wide hole showing something wet with smooth surface of dark burgundy color in another casualty's torso. She lost an alarming amount of blood and was unconscious – twenty something girl in a dress and heavy military-style boots with ridiculous pink shoelaces.

Grant averted his gaze and passed it without stopping on a nearby body with a detached head hanging only on severed spinal cord. He barely even noticed that speakers were turned off.

Having finished with the first aid Grant nodded at the closest Hydra operatives and they pulled the injured up.

Grant once more observed the scene – _this_ massacre happened without his active participation. Although, the placement of the last two shots – which Grant assumed were the ones resulting in the current chaos – was at a different angle than the first.

He got the phone out.

"Have you intervened with the last two shots?"

Several seconds later his suspicions were confirmed:

"Yes."

Grant suppressed nausea. It wasn't Reznikoff's – or her team's – fault. They were trying to prevent a sniper making a shot – and Donnie, and probably him, too, were alive thanks to their efforts.

But their efforts also led to the sniper firing in a not intended direction and one person ended up dead, four were injured.

Grant wanted to give Coulson a "reality check". He regretted this thought now – not like that.

"What about him?" Donnie was clutching at Parsons' tactical vest and resolutely looking at the ceiling.

Grant turned to the last person harmed by the shooting – Hydra agent – Speranza. Amazingly enough he was still breathing – harsh wheezing sounds accompanied by blood pulsing out of mouth. Bullet tore through his vest leaving neat round hole in the center.

McBraid threw a syringe at Grant not looking up from the gauze rapidly soaking with blood.

Grant caught it. He crouched, carefully rolled the agent on his right side – there was no exit hole, only big bulging area behind left shoulder blade.

Damn.

He injected the agent with the drug. A little bit of mercy – less painful death. Speranza slowly became less tense and with sudden clarity looked at Grant. His hands clawed at Grant's sleeves and Grant gripped the man's fingers tightly.

Minute later he released them.

Standing Grant grabbed Donnie by the arm and steered him to the vault.

"But why?" Donnie was more bewildered than shocked. "He had a vest on."

"Level four body armor is not designed to withstand these bullets. But it almost did. The second plate – on the back – stopped the round and it ricocheted – in the body."

Donnie touched his own vest and swallowed:

"What about the other wounded? Will they survive?"

"Some people survived an RPG hit." Grant knew damn well that this wasn't an answer but Donnie seemed to have been reassured.

Inside the vault remaining eighteen hostages – including SHIELD agents and Echidna employees – were huddled together.

Upon seeing Grant Fitz exploded:

"What the hell was that?!"

Grant pushed him into the wall:

"Calm down – that wasn't me. It was your precious SHIELD which tried to cross off him – " Grant nodded at Donnie. "– but things went FUBAR and you've seen the consequences firsthand. By the way, you're lucky you're alive."

Fitz shook and clenched his jaw but sat back. Annoying asshole was unusually quiet and looking at Grant with hatred in the eyes.

Really? Grant wasn't the only one at fault here.

Leaving Donnie under Hydra agents' watch Grant went to the lounge room and grabbed the phone:

"I need an ambulance – I have critically wounded hostages and I'm giving them up for free."

"That's not suffici…"

"I don't give a fuck what you think or say or want, Hill. Your saint Coulson made a mistake trying to take out the perceived biggest threat – and there are dead. And there will be more dead if you don't get an ambulance here – _now._ "

"Li…"

" _Shut the fuck up._ There's a bloodbath inside – and yes, that blood is on my hands. But it's on yours, too. Your's, Coulson's, sniper's, the FBI's – who allowed you to carry out this action. So shut up and get an ambulance."

Grant punched the button and barely stopped himself from throwing the phone against the wall.

As a matter of fact he didn't think that FBI was aware of SHIELD's activities, or that Hill knew more than cursory "we'll take out the gifted, you can attack with less risk".

It didn't change what happened – or made it any less horrific. Good intentions and plans rarely worked out when colliding with reality.

Phone ringed. Grant internally groaned – more talking, what was wrong with them? Why Hill was leading "negotiations" and not the FBI or even NYPD trained personnel?

"Grant Ward. I expected more after all the rumors." Female voice. Unknown. SHIELD?

"Sorry to disappoint." Grant switched the speaker on and soundlessly opened the door. Spotting Parsons he threw an eraser from the desk at him. It bounced off his head and he jerked. Grant gestured to keep quiet and summoned him.

"I'm not disappointed. I'm pissed off. I'm going to make you suffer."

"Stand in line." Parsons quietly arrived at the door.

"I'm not going to."

Grant internally rolled eyes at self-assured arrogance with which it was said.

"I'm quivering in fear. So, enlighten me, why you should be the one to get me?"

"I almost did once. In Philadelphia."

Damn, Cavalry.

"I beat you. I would have killed you – if not for Simmons."

"And?" All this power display started to bore Grant.

"You were beaten by a tiny Asian woman. How does that feel?"

Grant rolled his eyes – not internally:

"I enjoyed the view quite much – while I was under you."

"Like you did with Lorelei?" Grant felt her words impact him as a physical punch. "But then _submitting_ is nothing new to you."

Grant closed his eyes.

"You always submit – to those more powerful."

Soft, patient voice.

_Breathe in – one, two..._

"Do you get off going down on deranged narcissists?"

Red long hair, compassion in green eyes.

_...hold your breath – one, two..._

"Like you're doing now."

Soothing voice telling him that it wasn't his fault…

"Like you did with Garrett."

…that he didn't deserve it to happen. That he didn't deserve what his family did to him. What his brother did to him.

_...breathe out – one, two..._

"You're not someone to be afraid of."

… _three._

Grant hasn't exactly believed Romanoff back then – after Lorelei was neutralized and Romanoff broke him out of an interrogation room, ripping electrodes off and telling Hill to leave him alone for one goddamn night. She proceeded to get him wasted – not completely, he managed to keep Hydra and first five years with John to himself.

"You're a follower."

But everything else – it was like a dam broke and he talked and talked and stopped long after midnight.

"You're just weak."

Grant opened his eyes, picked a pen and scribbled on his palm "SHIELD assaulting NOW".

He showed it to Parsons and Hydra agent jerkily nodded sprinting away from the door.

"You're pathe…"

"You know, it's low even for SHIELD to use what happened to me – which qualifies as sexual assault – _against me._ But we're talking about the same SHIELD which sent me on a mission not two weeks after Lorelei – a _seduction_ – and expected me to _perform._ It shouldn't be surprising."

Agent May scoffed but Grant pressed on not giving her time to respond:

"The same SHIELD which for years didn't care that I barely passed my psych evaluations as long as I could do my job. The same SHIELD which didn't think even for a moment that maybe teaching someone with my plethora of issues how to lie and kill and betray isn't the brightest idea. The same SHIELD that hoarded technology, got rid of people in its way and decided the whole planet's fate." He took a quick breath. Hopefully he wasn't overplaying. "The same SHIELD whose games with the Tesseract brought Chitauri and Loki on Earth. The same SHIELD who recruited German scientists with strategic value after World War II, _recruited Arnim Zola._ The same SHIELD which created Project Insight and was going to launch it – the only difference would have been whom they decided to kill." Grant moved out of the room. "Haven't you ever asked yourself that maybe the reason Hydra was able to pretend to be SHIELD so _intimately,_ so _genuinely_ is because Hydra didn't have to pretend?"

Before she could have answered Grant's phone vibrated, and windows all over the building shattered and passed rappelling agents. Grant dropped down behind the wall and opened fire through the drywall.

He threw several stun grenades behind his back in the lobby and ducked in the lounge room. He closed the door, put additional bullets in the heads of SHIELD agents just in case while explosions set off. Then he opened the door, rolled forward under the teller stands and shot along the length of the lobby.

He got up, run to where Parsons and his people were exchanging fire with attackers and joined them.

Three minutes later it was over.

**ooo**

"Nobody moves! Calm down! Calm down!" The shooting from the vault made Grant pause and signal for Hydra agents to be on alert – just what _else_ went wrong?

Donnie run out in the corridor and Grant felt his heart skipping a beat – his hands were covered in blood. But moment later he settled down – there were no wounds and Donnie didn't seem too worried:

"We have a problem – SHIELD agent tried to escape."

Inside the vault floor and walls were frozen, the hostages were huddled even tighter, two Hydra agents left to keep an eye on them were being tended by McBraid and the culprit for all excitement was duct taped from head to foot with extreme prejudice.

Fitz was looking put-upon and glaring at his fellow agent and McBraid in equal measure.

Donnie meanwhile kneeled beside one of the wounded:

"I, uh, I think her lips are blue."

McBraid cursed, tied the bandage around Hydra operative's torso and stripped the gloves off.

Grant ordered Parsons:

"Resume patrolling – they may try again."

Parsons nodded and with other three agents exited leaving the agent injured in the SHIELD's failed attempt at attack.

Donnie hurried out of McBraid's way while Grant applied pressure on the most recent casualty's leg.

"Help there." McBraid nodded at Grant and Donnie rushed to them. Before Grant could have asked just how exactly Donnie was supposed to help, the kid touched groaning and swearing woman's leg and froze the open wound effectively stopping the bleeding.

"Cool." Grant's words made Donnie stiffen.

"Really?" Donnie sounded as if it was impossible.

Grant stifled an urge to beat _certain_ someone up and confirmed:

"Yeah. Isn't it?" The question was directed at Hydra agent who hesitantly poked her leg and exclaimed:

"Totally! Sir."

Leaving Donnie and her to wrap bandages Grant went to the other two injured. One was pressing a compress made from a towel to his head while the other one was stabbed in the side. Grant spotted a blood-stained shard of glass lying on the floor. From one of the shattered windows back in the lobby.

Grant turned to look at the annoying asshole – the sight of him covered in a duct tape was soothing. And a little funny.

"What happened?"

"The fucker caught us with pants down, we're sorry, sir, but then that poor girl started to bleed out again and Doc got really ticked off and the kid iced everything and…"

"Okay, stop, I got it." The whole sentence took _less than five seconds_ and it genuinely terrified Grant.

"I'm not a _kid._ " Donnie was very indignant. Talkative Hydra agent opened his mouth but Grant shushed him into silence. Thank God he appeared to follow orders.

"I'm not!"

"Yes, you're not, now calm down." Grant dragged the kid away and out of the vault:

"How are you?"

Donnie petulantly crossed his arms:

"I'm _fine._ "

Yeah, sure.

"What's wrong?"

"You mean aside from us stuck in here, all the blood and shooting and the fact that SHIELD tried to kill me?"

Well, Grant could have phrased that better.

"You need to order to relocate the people out of there." Donnie nodded at the vault. "I, um, overdid it with the amount of liquid nitrogen and considering its expansion ratio then it…"

"Stop, repeat."

Donnie heavily sighed:

"Liquid nitrogen – evaporates – can asphyxiate in confined spaces."

Okaaaay.

Grant turned around to start moving people.

ooo

"FBI agent Kang at the front door."

"Ambulance?"

"Still not near."

Grant ordered Hydra agents to cover him while he went to the doors which were being persistently knocked on.

Grant turned the key:

"Come inside _slowly_ with raised hands. Don't do anything stupid."

Agent Kang dutifully followed the instructions – he had a vest on, but no visible weapons.

Closing the door behind him Grant ordered him to stop and quickly frisked.

"I'm here for the wounded."

"Then there are the paramedics?"

Agent made a face:

"There's a hierarchical power play in addition to "who's to blame" game, so, no EMTs. I'm not even sure the snipers outside are not too trigger happy."

Grant internally groaned.

"Then _what_ are you doing here?"

Agent shrugged:

"Where's always a possibility that they won't shoot me, so I can get a hostage to an ambulance."

And that's why he just waltzed in the bank being hold by heavily armed terrorists and which also survived two shootouts straight out of the war-zone.

"By the way, we knew nothing about the sniper."

Grant met FBI agent's eyes.

"We didn't know that SHIELD was preparing an attack either. How many people are hurt?"

Agent looked genuinely upset. Grant said:

"Two hostages are critical, one is stable. One dead."

"And your people?"

Grant snorted:

"Really?"

As if he was going to disclose such important information.

Agent Kang shrugged and looked over the lobby – nothing interesting, just blood and glass. All bodies were moved.

"I'd have been glad to say something like "that's not gonna happen again", but…"

Grant nodded.

"How's Donald Gill?"

" _Alive._ "

Kang flinched and Grant reminded himself that _this_ particular agent wasn't at fault.

"I'm sorry that kid got dragged into all of this." Kang paused. "What you said about the _Index,_ is it true?"

"Yes." Grant might have put emphasis on certain parallels but he hasn't lied.

"And about Sandbox…What happened?"

Like Grant was going to say anything about brainwashing – he was in deep trouble with Whitehall already.

Although…

"Why don't you ask Walter Gill?"

Before Kang could have continued his impromptu intelligence gathering Grant said:

"Stand still and…"

"…don't do anything stupid."

Damn, he was supposed to be afraid. Or wary. Or something – _not_ blasé.

Grant addressed two Hydra agents keeping Kang at gunpoint:

"Don't shoot him."

He needed at least one person who actually was interested in getting the hostages out alive.

ooo

Office room was not much larger than the vault and McBraid was busy with that same girl again. He looked up then Grant came into the room:

"I need a blood transfusion."

Well, okay. Grant summoned Parsons:

"Get agent Reed here."

McBraid disbelievingly asked:

"Have you memorized every agent's file?" Then he paused. "Stupid question, don't mind me, sir."

Grant ignored him – _of course_ he memorized every damn file – and ordered:

"Prepare one of your wounded for transportation – not by paramedics, just outside."

That was then Grant's phone vibrated.

Damn, he was starting to dread the thing.

"They leaked your name and basic info about you to the journalists. The rest of the team inside, too."

Fuck.

ooo

"Any chance you can lead the negotiations?"

Agent Kang looked at Grant as if he was mental.

"What? It will be beneficial to all involved."

Agent just tighter clutched the injured woman's clothes and carefully dragged her outside.

Grant equally carefully closed the doors behind him.

Then he went to another office room – this one occupied by Donnie.

Paper clips, copper wire and heat sink ripped out of the processor together with a radioactive power source were a somewhat worrying sight.

"How's that going to work anyway?"

"Seebeck effect - the occurrence of electromotive force in a closed electric circuit consisting of series of connected dissimilar conductors, contacts between which are at different temperatures."

Grant really regretted asking.

"Conversion of heat directly into electricity."

Why couldn't Donnie have said that in the first place?

Laptop whined and powered up.

ooo

Agent Kang dragging the injured woman through the bank's entrance, quinjet uncloaking above the building's roof and soldiers descending through the windows…

"Get the live feed."

"…the name of the terrorist cell's leader, the man responsible for the attack at Miami FBI office and Philadelphia bombing. Is he really the brother of the Senator Christian Ward, the most vocal proponent of the creation of anti-SHIELD organization? The answer to this question will be given by the Senator himself."

Grant felt pressure building in chest.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I think I owe it to all of you to discuss something all too often elusive...the truth. Sometimes we want things simpler than they actually are, but...the tough reality is, we are complex creatures. Good and evil exist side-by-side among us, the same is true in my own home. At first, I was ashamed to share this truth with the world, but my younger brother, Grant Ward, is a member of Hydra. He is a traitor. He is a traitor to his friends, his family, and his nation."

Grant leaned on the desk. There was ringing in his ears as if through a dense soundproofing and the walls went out and in focus.

"…When evil sits closest to one's own heart, that is when the surest hand must cut it out….I give my word. I will personally make sure my brother is punished for his crimes…"

He exhaled and closed eyes.

"…The darkness lingers longer than the light. SHIELD and Hydra is a problem that the world must face. Otherwise, that darkness will grow and spread... and cast a shadow over us all…"

"Turn it off."

Rage was gripping the heart – along with fear. The pressure was building up and up and something had to give.

Grant kicked the table's leg – pain shot through his ankle. He kicked the table again and again until his head cleared.

"Are you okay?" Grant held his breath before opening eyes:

"Yeah."

Donnie averted his gaze to the floor but eventually asked:

"It's him, right? The one who…" He trailed off.

Grant nodded.

It was pathetic how much power Christian still had over him after all these years. He shouldn't be flying off the handle at mere sight of him. Although, he had to admit, Christian turned the situation to his advantage.

 _A man brave enough to have his own brother executed for his crimes._ Midterms were coming.

SHIELD released Grant's name to the public to get back at him, but also to throw a doubt on anti-SHIELD Senator's standing. Instead _he_ was going to come out on top. He turned his weakness to his strength.

Grant never knew it was possible.

ooo

"No, no. You're _saying the exact same thing_ as Ordonez. You can't…" Grant took a deep breath. 101 on lying-during-an-interrogation for Echidna employees was going horribly.

Agent Kekumu stilled while agent Ordonez offered:

"If you give us half an hour, sir…"

Grant straightened and gestured for her to continue.

"I'll get them ready. They're just nervous."

Grant wanted to bang his head against the wall – they were _afraid_ of him. Maybe she was right – his presence negatively influenced their performance.

"Fine, you have thirty minutes."

He exited the office room and started pacing.

He didn't have even one half-cocked plan, only several ideas and goal – get out Donnie alive.

This helplessness terrified Grant. No, more than that – it threatened to paralyze him.

It took him several seconds to realize that his phone was vibrating.

It couldn't be Reznikoff, they had a lengthy brainstorm session after which Donnie went off for a quiet corner to verify the calculations.

The call disconnected and message appeared.

"Hi, Wall-E, how are you?"

Grant's heart missed a beat.

"It's Auto. For confirmation of my identity – your homework tasks majorly suck, but the little magnet is still disturbingly excited."

Grant gripped the phone. What was she doing? Did she want to bring attention to herself in case SHIELD cracked the security measures? And how did she crack them anyway?

Oh, yes, one of the best hackers in the world, how could he have forgotten _that._

"What are you doing?!"

"Hey, why so mean? I was worried :-P" (Sticking tongue out)

"/:-|" (Unamused, mildly cross)

":O OMG [:] there might be hope for you still!" (Surprised, robot)

"What are you doing?"

"I was just passing by then I saw the news - _doesn't have to do anything with my people?_ ಠ_ಠ" (Look of disapproval)

"Yes, it doesn't."

"Then you don't need my help? %-(" (Confused and unhappy)

Damn.

":'-(" (Crying)

Damn, damn.

"?-(" (Sorry)

Silence.

"Very _very_ much."

":'-D" (Crying with laughter)

Seriously?

"Sorry, couldn't resist! :-J" (Tongue-in-cheek)

"Ha ha ha."

"But, really, if I can help – hack the FBI, turn the lights on?"

"Why?"

"It would suck to find another SO."

Grant leaned on the wall, rolled the mask up and rubbed his face. What help? He was screwed. If Donnie's worries were proven right, then Reznikoff wouldn't be able to get them out.

And if by some miracle they do get out, Whitehall's ire will be fatal.

Hydra was in the spotlight. Echidna Capital Management was in the spotlight. The anti-SHIELD proposal was a done deal, but Hydra wasn't any better off. His usefulness was seriously affected by his cover being blown.

He was _so_ dead.

And he failed Donnie and Jemma. At least Raina knew what to do – she was smart, she will make it out alive. She was a survivor. Like he was.

Grant gave into temptation and banged his head against the wall. Pain at the back of the head, pain in the shoulder, leg, side. Pain was always welcomed by Grant – it meant he was still alive, still straining, crawling through every torment and anguish. Dragging himself out, leaving behind everything that became a hindrance. Ruthlessly and without hesitation.

Always on alert, waiting. Afraid.

Not of death, no. There were things much worse than death. He was afraid of losing control. Of feeling helpless again. John promised him that no one would ever screw with him again.

But he lied. Grant was a plaything – for SHIELD, for Hydra – and John did nothing to stop it. He was reeled up and down like a puppet on strings animated by others and with a hollow head stuffed with thoughts on demand.

Grant had always been convinced they were his own.

Not anymore.

He was cornered, out of options, out of plans. Too many players, too many possibilities, variables.

He hated variables. Because he was afraid of being powerless.

But the funny thing about not being in control was that it forced Grant to realize that he never had control to begin with. The illusion of being powerful, of being somebody – just that, an illusion.

If he had nothing, then he had nothing to lose.

He returned his attention to the conversation.

"Hey, is everything fine?"

"You're okay there? Did something happen?"

"You're starting to freak me out – there's nothing on the news, on the FBI channels. Hey?"

"Okay, if it's your idea of the joke – it's not funny."

"ANSWER, damnit!"

"I'm here, Eve. Just had a little existential crisis."

"WTF?! :-|" (Cross)

"Sorry. I didn't mean to worry you."

"I WASN'T worried :-o" (Appalled)

"/3" (Broken heart)

":-\" (Skeptical)

"It's the truth. Honestly."

"If you say so. About help?"

"Has the FBI recorded my conversations with Hill and SHIELD?"

"Yes."

"Can you leak them?"

"Uncensored?"

"I thought you were rooting for the freedom of information."

"Are you sure?"

Grant paused.

"Absolutely."

"Right now?"

"No, after."

"After what?"

"You'll see."

"Okay, Mr.-Secretive."

"Be careful, leave the city, don't underestimate SHIELD."

"Yes, sir! :-7" (Smirk)

"I mean it."

"Okay, okay. Be careful, too. H2CUS" (Hope to see you soon)

And he had everything to gain.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: I'm back! I'm sorry for a long wait – this chapter required much more planning and research than I anticipated.
> 
> Thank you! Thank you for reading! Thank you for your comments! I appreciate them and your attention!
> 
> Next update will be in two months – end of semester and next chapter is going to be no easier than the present one.
> 
> I hope this chapter won't disappoint.
> 
> Any of the opinions voiced by the characters are not the ultimate truth (or even necessarily reflect my opinions) – they are my interpretations of what the characters would probably do.
> 
> If you want to, I will appreciate your thoughts on whether they are in character (especially Grant).  
> If any of the created by me OCs are getting too much screen time – please, write, if you don't like it.  
> If you want to ask questions, I will appreciate them very much. If you want to, you can ask me on tumblr – tmrlan. tumblr. com.
> 
> Sorry but there's no Skye in this chapter (she's a little busy).
> 
> I hope you will enjoy fourteenth chapter.
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own anything but probably plot :) - if you recognize something, it's probably not mine. All rights belong to their owners.
> 
> Some phrases are from Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. season 1 episodes 01, 19, 21, season 2 episode 03, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, The Avengers, quote by Albert Camus, paraphrased quotes by Martin Luther King, Jr. and Kofi Annan. Quotes from www. slate. com – we do negotiate with terrorists, www. salon. com – we must negotiate with terrorists, Stalling for Time: My Life as an FBI Hostage Negotiator by Gary Noesner.  
> Russian naming conventions: First name Patronymic Family name. The form "first name + patronymic" is the feature of official communication, may convey the speaker's respect for the recipient.  
> Vietnamese personal names generally consist of three parts: a family name, a middle name, and a given name, used in that order. Typically, Vietnamese will be addressed with their given name, even in formal situations, although an honorific equivalent to "Mr.", "Mrs.", etc. will be added when necessary.  
> (Source: Wikipedia).  
> USAF Pararescue's motto is "These Things We Do, That Others May Live".  
> DoD – United States Department of Defense, IO – Bureau of International Organization Affairs of United States Department of State.  
> "Vasilisa the Beautiful" is the character of Russian fairy tales, "swallow" is a female agent employed to seduce people for intelligence purposes.  
> "_" shows the dialogue through texting. Translations are in ().  
> CANON-LEVEL VIOLENCE. (I hope its canon-level anyway).
> 
> Cross-posted at fanfiction net - s/11701788
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Congratulations with the Victory Day!  
> "No one is forgotten – nothing is forgotten."

Tape on wrappings made the process of sticking them on a tac vest expropriated from one of the SHIELD agents' bodies easier. Grant was cutting off a film from another C4 block when Parsons brought Fitz inside.

Nodding at Hydra agent Grant removed gloves and leaned on the desk. Parsons untied the bonds and exited leaving Grant with a grumpy scientist.

"W-what d-do you w-want?"

"I just want to talk." Grant raised his hands but Fitz wasn't buying his bullshit.

Grant sighed:

"I think we can relate – as two former agents of an organization which betrayed us. What do you say?"

"Y-you're c-crazy. Y-you a-are the t-traitor, n-not the o-other w-way a-around."

"So you admit that SHIELD betrayed _you._ " Before Fitz stopped gaping at him Grant continued:

"Like then Victoria Hand left you and agent Triplett to die in South Ossetia. Like then Phil Coulson refused to believe that Jemma is brainwashed. By the way, you should know that SHIELD sold Jemma's parents to the FBI."

Fitz scowled:

"I-I d-don't b-believe y-you."

"Your _belief_ isn't going to make what I said any less true." Grant paused and chuckled. "Though, it's not like you care about truth anyway."

"W-what t-truth? Ab-about the _l-lies_ th-that H-hydra w-was t-telling f-for d-decades?"

"No, not that one. The one about SHIELD – and the lies _they_ were telling good little agents like you."

"I-is th-that y-your at-attempt at t-turning m-me? B-because I-I ex-expected b-better f-from y-you."

Grant smiled:

"I don't need to try to turn you, Leo. I already did it."

"W-what a-are y-you t-talking about? I-I'm n-not a t-traitor!"

"I think Coulson won't believe your words if he finds out about the files you so generously shared with me – with _Hydra._ "

Grant spoke over Fitz's denials:

"It should have been obvious that you could be compromised – you and Jemma were _so_ close. What if she worked for Hydra longer – before the uprising? What about you? Who knows – maybe you shared something more than just pictures? Maybe _you're_ the reason I just happened to be here today for the SHIELD's mission?"

"Y-you w-won't d-do it! Y-you n-need m-me!"

"Yes, I do. And that's very fortunate for you – I don't want you in Whitehall's hands." Grant took out two taser disks. "These will help you escape – don't think of using them until after we're out of here."

Fitz hid the disks inside his jacket and didn't resist when Grant re-tied his hands:

"W-why a-are y-you d-doing t-this?"

Grant didn't come up with an answer until he already crossed the room to knock on the door. Turning to Fitz who was waiting for a reply he said:

"I don't want you to went through what Jemma and Donnie did."

Fitz paled:

"D-donnie?"

"What, don't tell me you decided that the kid woke up one day and joined a Nazi cult just for kicks?"

Fitz opened his mouth, then closed it.

"Yeah, I thought so."

ooo

"My na pozitsiyakh." ("We're in positions.")

Grant pocketed the phone, picked up the stationary one and dialed:

"I'm going outside – I have enough explosives to blow the whole block, so I suggest you to behave. And I'm releasing some hostages – try not to shoot them."

He hung up over male voice's protests – so Hill was sidelined now. Pity, he rather liked their quarrelling.

Grant unzipped his jacket and placed it on the table over his tac vest and P-90. Next was the shirt and holsters.

He closed eyes and took a deep breath.

He could do it – which is, well, okay, he never did something like that, it was the exact opposite of his usual modus operandi but...

It was just a part of the mission. Just a job. Just another persona.

He exhaled and pushed out all distracting thoughts. Another deep breath and he dug out Grant Ward, agent of SHIELD. A socially inept, if not outright antisocial, closed off, good to the point of boring, loyal, dedicated, a little maladjusted, a lot more damaged, but above all yearning to belong – to the first home he ever had.

Now to add confusion and hurt at SHIELD's duplicity, doubt, disillusionment, bitterness. But at the same time unbroken belief – in the greater good, in the necessity of making hard calls and saving humanity.

Whether they want it or not.

Grant put on tactical gloves and picked up prepared vest.

Hydra agents were waiting for him at the bank's entrance.

"Bugs are ready." Donnie was stiff and tense. Grant hoped his next actions won't cause Donnie to start doubting him.

Grant looked Hydra agents over.

"Everyone remembers their part?"

Parsons and Ordonez nodded, the rest spread around.

Grant didn't let himself take a deep breath:

"Okay, let's get started."

He turned the key and pushed the doors open.

Chilling air breezed skin barely protected by a thin T-shirt. The second he was noticed dozens of weapons had been pointed at him, only the equal number of cameras and shouting FBI agents stopping him from being riddled by bullets.

Grant slowly moved to the center of the fenced intersection and raised a hand with a remote controller. The button was already pressed – Grant turned around showing it to everyone.

The FBI and police started shouting even louder and the crowd gathered behind uniformed officers froze.

Grant lowered the vest on the pavement and raised a hand demanding silence.

When hush settled over the crowd he spoke up:

"Seventy years ago was founded an organization dedicated to protection. This organization was named SHIELD. I was a part of it. And I can confirm that we _were_ a shield, a line – between our world and another one – the world of wonders, of gods and monsters. The world which humanity was not ready to know about. The world humanity was not ready to survive being exposed to. And we're not ready even now.

But the truth is out. There are no more shadows to hide in. There _are_ stronger than us, better than us – and they are among us. What can we do with that? What could we have done when Chitauri fleet was above this same city two years ago? What could we have done when Malekith's warship descended on London a year ago?"

He paused – Christian better be getting here, wasn't that what family was supposed to do? Help each other out? He was helping Christian right now – if only anyone knew how much it _burned_ him to do so.

"We – SHIELD – were asking these questions too. And the answer terrified us. And this fear turned a desire to protect into a desperate race to have more reliable, more powerful, more dangerous weapons.

For years I was a SHIELD agent – a _specialist_ – which is just a fancy word for a _killer._ I got in, _alone,_ I got it done. Whatever the mission.

Because orders are orders. You don't question, you don't hesitate, you don't have doubts. You follow them – no matter the price.

Because you _believe_ it is for the right reasons. You _believe_ it is necessary evil. You _believe_ it is for the greater good.

But belief and truth are not the same.

For years I lied and killed in the service of liars and killers.

SHIELD experimented with the Tesseract – not understanding its power, its danger – and brought Earth to other worlds' attention. Only Avengers' intervention saved us all. SHIELD conducted dozens of experiments like T.A.H.I.T.I. Nick Fury tortured and experimented on Phil Coulson without his consent, against his will, despite his pleas for mercy – and Fury did all of this to his _favorite,_ his _protégé,_ his _golden boy._ And then came Project Insight – with the goal to neutralize threats _before they even happen._

SHIELD took upon itself to be not just judge, jury and executioner. No, it played a _God._ It decided who lives, who dies and what goes down in history.

I don't know then a desire to protect people turned into a desire to make choices for them, to shield them from the truth, to keep them safe – and ignorant.

But I know that what SHIELD was supposed to be is not what it became.

It had to stop. SHIELD had to be stopped."

"And that's why you joined Hydra? Flawless logic, Grant."

Christian approached the fence and cut off policemen's protests. He was in impeccably tailored suit and without a vest – so, Grant still knew what to expect from him even after years of separation.

"Hi, big brother. You look well."

"Can't say the same about you, Grant - considering current situation. And why don't you take the mask off? Everyone already knows who you are."

But not what he looks like. Grant couldn't do anything about the FBI and the government having his description – and it wasn't going to be a serious problem for a spy like him anyway – but he made a lot of enemies during his time as a SHIELD agent and the last thing he needed was to have his past covers blown worldwide.

"You can assure our parents that they have nothing to worry about – I don't take after either of them."

"But they _are_ worried. And have been for years after you disappeared."

"You know that it was better that way."

"Do I? After everything you put us through growing up I shouldn't be... I guess I should have realized sooner that you don't care about us. You never did."

"I _cared,_ Christian – that's why I left. I was a vicious little terror. I regret what I've done, I'm sorry –"

"You're sorry? You've turned into... you've become a murderer, a _monster,_ Grant. For years that we haven't heard about you, we hoped that you were safe and well but we never could have imagined that you end up in something like _this._ How could you, Grant? Nazis?"

"I'm not a Nazi, Christian."

"Schmidt, the founder of Hydra, was a _Nazi._ "

"Says who?"

"It's in the SHIELD files –"

"Because SHIELD is certainly a very reliable source of information – being a terrorist organization and all. Now whose logic is faulty?"

"Are you implying that Hydra is not Nazist?"

"I'm not implying, I'm openly stating - Hydra does not have a racist or nationalist or eugenic agenda –"

"Don't tell me Hydra's not trying to take over the world!"

"Hydra is trying to _change_ it."

"Into what? A tyranny?"

"No -"

"What do you want then? Oppression?"

" _Peace._ I want peace."

"You're a _terrorist_ –"

"– I want the world in which the content of the character determines a person's worth and not the circumstances of birth. I want the world in which safety is not maintained by a threat of violence. I want the world in which people like me _will not be needed._ "

"You declared a _war_ – and you're telling me you want _peace?_ "

Phone in Grant's pocket vibrated. Time to wrap this debate up.

"Peace is the only battle worth waging."

" _Peace_ is a process! Fragile and imperfect and slowly achieved!"

Thanks, Christian – Grant couldn't have come up with a better comeback on his own.

"Peace is not an achievement, brother."

Grant slowly removed controller's back panel – there were no batteries inside. He threw out plastic, stepped on the vest and crushed fake explosives.

"It's a responsibility."

He turned away from Christian and without hurry walked back in the bank – under the aim of both cameras and sniper rifles.

After he re-entered the building, Ordonez and her colleagues dragged out injured hostages and the container with SHIELD's fabrication effort.

ooo

Grant was re-holstering his sidearm when Parsons appeared in the doorway:

"Echidna workers placed bugs, sir."

Grant nodded and moved out of the room, quiet voice of Hydra agent catching him by surprise:

"Thank you, sir – for your words."

Grant haven't found anything better than to nod again.

ooo

Donnie turned the volume up when Grant came in.

"...your actions threatened the lives of the hostages! –"

" _My_ actions did nothing to worsen the situation! And I know my brother better than your so-called expert –"

"You haven't seen him in years, senator –"

"I grew up being terrified of him – and what he almost did to our younger brother, Ms. Hill –"

Grant rolled his eyes – that's exactly why he made himself publically apologize to Christian. The bastard was going to start spreading lies yet again and this time Grant could do nothing more than then he was a kid – he could only minimize the damage.

"Are you sure your people can do it?"

Donnie cut off the sound and leaned on the table. He looked tired but tense and was getting only tenser by the hour.

"They have instructions –"

"I'm not a civil engineer!" Donnie pushed away from the table and kicked a nearby bookcase. "I know _nothing_ about tunnels or construction –"

Grant caught Donnie's arm before he could hit a book shelf:

"We _know_ it's a risk – but we don't have better ideas."

Kid wrestled his arm away with an irritated glare:

"I know, I just... I don't want anyone else to die – because of me."

Grant sighed:

"Donnie –"

"No, don't "Donnie" me! I'm not a _child._ I understand that deaths are inevitable and I can't prevent every bad outcome from happening but I'm tired of all the blood and... and _lies!_ Your speech to the journalists – you sounded sincere, I was tempted to believe what you... But you're a very good actor, aren't you? You told me that Dr. Whitehall wouldn't put me in danger – but he did, didn't he? What else have you lied about, huh?"

That's what Grant hoped won't happen. Donnie remembered what Grant's professional vocation implied.

"I'm a spy, Donnie – I lie all the time. But what matters is what I _do_ – and I'm here, with you. I'm not going to leave you."

Donnie deflated and sat down in the chair.

"What you said to the cameras – how much of it was true?"

Grant never cared about abstract ideals and he certainly didn't care about SHIELD or Hydra – but some part of bitterness at SHIELD was surprisingly enough genuine.

Both SHIELD and Hydra claimed to be dedicated to the greater good but someone else always paid the price for it.

"More than I intended."

Grant was tired too – of dealing with liars and of being a liar himself.

ooo

"... Outrageous statement..."

"... Whom is he trying to convince in..."

"... The files leaked by the Rising Tide..."

"...FBI officials haven't yet commented on..."

News channels and internet were buzzing with the fall out of Grant's speech and Skye's participation. Grant didn't expect that she would frame it like a work of the Rising Tide but he supposed it was even better – made the leak look more reliable.

Grant hoped Skye will follow his advice and won't do anything foolishly brave. He couldn't afford worrying about her right now.

Donnie entered the room and flopped in the chair.

"How's it going?"

He rubbed his eyes and leaned forward resting elbows on his knees.

"I froze concrete surface of the floor. We'll be ready to start digging in an hour."

"Agent Reznikoff sent a message." Grant picked the phone from the desk and translated:

"Holes are drilled according to the diagram, slurry is poured."

Donnie nodded.

"It should take about six hours and grout will expand with 130 megapascals –"

And so in six hours Reznikoff's agents will be able to start cutting through sewers.

"So next six hours you're going to spend sleeping."

Donnie gave a start.

"What? No. I need to be awake in case the tunnel collapses –"

"You need to be rested to actually be of help in that case. You know when the dangerous part will begin, so until then you're gonna do your best to prepare."

"Prepare as in _sleep._ " Donnie's voice was full of disgust.

Grant internally sighed.

"What are you gonna do? Drive yourself into panic attack with worry? Mess up tomorrow because you're too exhausted to think straight?"

Donnie fidgeted.

"You're the only one who can come up with the solution if it all goes downhill. Or do you think Fitz will help us? He doesn't care if Hydra agents die – he'll probably dance with joy if it happens."

Donnie murmured:

"Fitz is a _liar._ Like all of them. Then we met at the Academy, I thought – this is the person who understands me, who _knows_ what it's like... But now, now he said to me that he's disappointed, that I'm a traitor... that I betrayed... betrayed Seth's memory. He asked me how could I have joined Hydra, have I learnt _nothing_ from Seth's death and Quinn's duplicity."

Donnie clenched his fists.

" _He_ asked _me._ What right did he have? After what they did to me in the Sandbox – exercises, experiments... How dare he to pretend that SHIELD had my best interests in mind? They only wanted my powers. They all want only my powers."

"Don't judge Fitz too harshly, Donnie. He's completely loyal to SHIELD. He was indoctrinated at very young age, younger than you. If SHIELD tells him black is white, he won't doubt it."

The only matter more important to him was Jemma. If not for painfully obvious feelings Fitz had for Jemma, Grant knew that Fitz would never have started to have doubts.

" _Indoctrinated?_ What do you mean?"

Donnie's voice was incredulous.

Grant gave up and sighed. Donnie made it _so_ easy.

"SHIELD wasn't law enforcement or peacekeeping organization despite its efforts to present itself as such. It was intelligence agency first and foremost. It also was paramilitary and scientific organization with frightening amount of budget and resources. It started out with good intentions but it gained more and more power. And you know what comes with great power."

"Great responsibility?"

Grant rolled his eyes – Donnie wasn't even trying to hide mocking intonation.

"No, Donnie, I'm not preaching about moral obligations people in power ought to have. The greater the power, the greater possibilities to abuse it, the greater damage one can do. And what happens when someone has power? He has to convince his followers that they are on the _right side._ SHIELDhas been brainwashing agents for years and tries even now."

Come on, Donnie...

"Brainwashing?! It's ridiculous –"

"It's not. Do you think it counts as a brainwashing only if you're strapped to a table and mad scientists in lab coats shock you with electricity, drill into your head?"

"Well, yes –"

"No, Donnie. People were doing it to each other long before computers were invented. Words are more powerful than people give them credit for. Right framing, right accents can create and destroy, can control humans."

Donnie shivered. Grant waited.

"What about Hydra?"

_Yes._

"Hydra has an extensive and efficient recruitment program. And if someone of high value doesn't want to join willingly, there is Faustus method."

"Faustus method?"

"Subjects are brainwashed through tedious process consisting of painful torture and conditioned to obey orders. Even if they somehow break their programming, they can be activated by triggers – particular sequence of phrases – and returned to compliance."

Donnie flinched. Grant stopped himself – he can't push.

"But Faustus method doesn't work on anyone. Some people aren't susceptible."

Donnie shivered and rubbed his temples.

_Liar._

Quiet, smooth voice, electrical current going through tired muscles, kaleidoscope – in and out, in and out...

_Everyone breaks, everyone falls down. Eventually. Let go, let go and rise from the ashes._

Grant clenched his teeth. _That_ particular memory was not welcome, especially now.

_I offer you a second chance._

_I'm here to make you a one-time offer, so listen up._

Chill snaked up his spine. What the...

_Why do you insist on resistance? He is not here, he left you, how much longer are you going to wait for his orders? I want us to work together. I want you to become a valued member of our organization. Surrender...and I will replace him._

_Now, you can spend the next few years locked up in a cage, blaming mommy and daddy and mean older brother for your problems or you can let me get you out of here and teach you how to be a man._

_I think it will be a terrible waste if you don't comply, agent Ward._

_10 seconds, and I walk out that door._

_Are you ready to comply?_

_Say "yes"..._

Grant shook his head. Donnie wasn't the only one who needed sleep – Grant was up for more than thirty six hours, his mind was starting to play games, that's all.

Why else was Whitehall's voice turning into John's so seamlessly?

ooo

Grant opened eyes and abruptly crossed over from dreaming to being awake. He glanced at his watch – he slept for four hours like intended.

After getting sitrep he woke McBraid and they replaced Martinez and Reed.

Last twelve hours Grant and not injured Hydra agents spent digging through 3-inch concrete floor and ground underneath while Reznikoff's team was cutting through sewers towards them.

Donnie was twice forcefully sent to rest and met Grant at the door still tense and tired but at least not nodding off every five minutes.

"Another portion of grout's gonna expand in an hour." He gave Grant the phone.

Grant nodded. It better work – and not just because he had no back-up plan. If the wall collapsed, police would be tipped off and Reznikoff's agents would come under fire. If any of them died, Donnie was gonna fly off the handle – which was dangerous not only due to his freezing ability but potentially unstable programming too.

But Grant didn't regret contributing to Donnie's current state – if they were gonna go down, at least Donnie would not be brainwashed.

Twenty nine minutes later the concrete block under the street separating bank and building in which lay their way out cracked and fractured lowering part of the road above it for almost three feet.

ooo

"No!" Donnie rushed to the exit but Grant caught him.

"What do you think you're doing?"

Donnie struggled against Grant.

"They need help!"

"Police is sure to figure out what happened any second! How are you gonna help – freeze the bullets in the air?" Donnie fell down and Grant let him go.

"They're gonna be killed, aren't they?" Grant swallowed down a false assurance that they will be able to shoot their way out – not with that much cops around.

Unless cops were distracted.

No, it's dangerous and not practical – risk nine people for five? Odds weren't good that it'll work out.

But they were gonna be dead for certain if he didn't do anything.

Distraction. But how to do it?

Grant swallowed down his disagreement, ignored absurdity of his intentions and every rational part of his mind.

Too long, too implausible, even more laughable…

Wait – Donnie, _liquid_ _nitrogen._

"Donnie, can you do that thing with fog? Like on stage?"

Donnie snapped his head up.

"You mean special effects?"

"Yes, as a distraction. Can you do it?"

Donnie got up.

"I need moisture to condense, boiled water, no, I can't – wait, to lower pressure, yes, and then – yes, I can. How big do you need it?"

"The whole area before the bank."

Donnie nodded and Grant strapped his vest on while dialing number:

"Smurfette, we're gonna cover you – coordinate with Parsons." He threw the phone to Parsons who rushed in the room, the rest Hydra agents hot on his heels. "Parsons, get everyone prepared for sortie. I'll distract cops. McBraid, stay with Donnie." Grant turned and run to the office ignoring screams and gunfire from outside.

Agent Tien was wobbling on one leg to the door then he barged in.

"SWAT is two minutes from attacking." Grant turned laptop to him with the live feed of the square before bank and roughly weighed angles and distance.

"Keep Parsons informed." Grant ran out, glanced over Hydra agents, checked ammo and went to the front door of the bank:

"Donnie, how much longer?"

"Almost done."

Thick white fog drowned the street heightening chaos.

"Start dissipating the fog then Parsons gets them out. Cover me as you retreat." Donnie and Parsons nodded, Grant turned the key and plunged in white nothingness. One o'clock, thirty feet, two flash bangs. Eleven o'clock, another flash bang. At the last moment he changed his aim and shot the facade of the SWAT truck and not the cops themselves – he didn't know what _the hell_ he thought, but he had no time to regret it – he bodily slammed into two officers, tumbled them on the ground, rolled right under the legs of two more, cut the tendon on the leg of another one and rolled up.

He blocked the hit, kicked and broke attacker's knee. Ducked under the blow from the right, twisted and sent cop in his teammates.

Hit in the left calf dropped him down. Broken ankle flared hot, he turned and barely caught a kick. Twisted, stabbed, rolled away from next blow when a new player run in his scuffle with the SWAT team and attacked police officers. Grant caught the sight of SHIELD insignia on the shoulder and dried blood on tac vest – McBraid, damn idiot was _so_ _dead_ –

Grant threw a knife to prevent a shot, missed an enemy from behind and made a half-way turn not completely out of hold. He captured the hand with a knife; saw another officer getting up with a Glock aimed –

Grant pressed against his opponent's thigh and flipped the guy over himself in the line of fire at the same time as McBraid jumped between them. Shot rang out.

Analytical part of Grant's mind knew that he couldn't have heard it _that_ loudly – as if in complete silence – because of the cacophony of gunfire, screams and panicking crowd but for the fraction of a second he was paralyzed by shock. _No one ever –_

He knocked out struggling cop, punched next cop in the throat while McBraid disarmed his opponent and shock was put in the back of Grant's mind.

Hail of bullets at close distance announced Hydra agents retreat. Grant grasped another cop's gun and moved its slide back a bit – safety mechanism kicked in and Grant kneed the guy in the groin – time to fall back.

He threw the last flash bang, closed his eyes while it went off, stumbled under the effect of the loud blast and grabbing McBraid by elbow dived in the breaking up fog.

Under cover of fire provided by retreating Hydra agents they were running to the bank when someone rushed out.

Donnie. Before Grant could have had a heart attack Donnie was strong-armed and dragged back in.

They made it inside and locking the door Grant hoped that both SHIELD and FBI would be too busy to attack because Hydra agents were a mess.

They had an addition of two Hydra agents in SWAT uniforms – Grant hoped their teammates got away in the created confusion.

Grant briefly allowed himself to lean his forehead on the concrete surface of the wall trying to rein in the fury building in his chest.

He didn't quite succeed.

"What were you thinking?! You were told to stay inside _and not to run out!_ Do you not understand that they will kill you without hesitation?"

"I'm not afraid of them! And I'm sick of others suffering because of me!"

"What "others"? They're trained soldiers while you're –"

"And hostages? They're soldiers too? If SHIELD wasn't trying to kill me, those people wouldn't have been hurt!"

Before Grant found a proper retort McBraid made a mistake of opening his mouth and reminding Grant of his existence:

"SHIELD would have attacked either way –"

"Who gave you permission to say anything? After the stunt you pulled –"

"I was trying to help!"

"I don't _need_ help!"

"That's not what Ms. Raina said!"

" _What?_ " Grant barely registered that he advanced on the Hydra agent while the rest of them tried to squeeze themselves in the walls.

McBraid swallowed but didn't back down:

"Ms. Raina told me to keep an eye on you, sir – she said you had pulled through a pneumothorax and had an awful habit of disregarding your own safety."

Grant almost choked on the rising rage:

"Raina should learn _to stop meddling._ "

"She's worried about you, sir."

"She's not..." Grant struggled and managed to suppress _she's worried about losing her pet project after all the investment she's done_. "I gave you an order – to protect Donnie, not me –"

"Stop talking about me as if I'm not here! I don't need to be protected!"

"You do! From SHIELD, from cops, from Bakshi –"

Shit. Grant _couldn't believe_ he slipped.

"What?" At least Donnie shut up.

Okay, he could as well play on it.

"Do you really think that another attack on UN headquarters was necessary?"

"What... you mean... wait, are you saying that Mr. Bakshi knew about SHIELD?"

"No, I'm saying that Bakshi dangled you before SHIELD as a bait to catch the mole."

Donnie stilled and crossed his arms tightly hugging himself:

"But Dr. Whitehall..." He trailed off and then started shaking:

"But you're here, too – Dr. Whitehall will do something to... to get you out."

Grant snorted and addressed Reznikoff's agents:

"Sutton, Lester, please, _enlighten_ Donnie."

Two Hydra agents who were quite good at pretending to be just a part of the furniture glanced at each other, at their colleagues and Sutton forced out:

"Agent Reznikoff contacted HQ. We were denied any support."

They didn't look surprised but Grant wasn't expecting a reaction from them, especially after the clusterfuck they survived in Nigeria – Parsons' people were another matter.

While almost all Hydra operatives were ready to die and considered that sacrifice an honor and a duty, actually being left behind has got to sting.

Then again Grant hasn't noticed any hurt feelings from Fitz towards Hand and SHIELD evoked the same level of obedience from its agents as Hydra.

"But you –" Donnie uncrossed his arms and leaned on the wall. "You're _very_ _valuable._ "

Grant huffed:

"Just because I'm more valuable than all of you put together doesn't mean I'm less expendable than any of you."

Donnie doubled over and clutched at his chest. He took several shuddering breaths and suddenly sprinted away in the direction of the bathroom.

Grant jerked his head to McBraid and the stubborn little shit rushed after the kid.

Grant surveyed subdued Hydra agents – damn, they were in need of some cheering up.

"Don't you have things to do? Like check perimeter, resume patrolling and _make sure we'll live long enough_ for me to come up with something? Up, gentlemen – and a lady – this isn't over yet. I'm still alive and plan on staying that way."

Hydra agents picked themselves up from the floor and Parsons swiftly ushered them around.

The _things_ he had to do, honestly.

ooo

Damn FBI called every fifteen minutes but Grant was ignoring them. Let them stew. He needed time to think. Reznikoff, Sullivan and Jimenez managed to get away, thankfully – but his number of available assets outside now consisted of only three agents.

He crumpled another very-important-paper and threw it at the half-way opened door. It ricocheted into the wall and fell right in the trash can next to its predecessors.

Increasingly hysterical arguments in Grant's headphones indicated a complete loss of control over the situation in the command center. Feds were busy trying to designate a convenient scapegoat – and damn, Christian was _good_ at putting his two cents in and coming off as reasonable.

Knock on the doorway made Grant pause his demolition of documents. McBraid stood at attention and removing headphones Grant gestured for him to come in.

"How's Donnie?"

"Still locked in the bathroom, sir. He's getting more and more angry." Grant didn't like that Donnie wasn't in the direct line of sight of Hydra agents but he could almost feel that the kid was balancing on the edge. The process as delicate as this required gentleness so the kid was better left alone.

"Agent Nguyen's wound reopened, sir. I stopped the bleeding, but she will die without proper medical treatment."

Damn.

"How long does she have?"

"Four hours, tops."

 _Damn,_ if Grant didn't want Donnie to have a hysterics Hydra agent had to be medevacked.

"Keep her alive as long as you can."

McBraid nodded.

"And it's agent Tien, not Nguyen."

McBraid was still in the room.

"Anything else?"

"Sir, I... I wanted to apologize. I assumed that Donnie would stay put and didn't think that he would risk himself like that."

Grant wanted to say that _assumptions killed_ – just as surely as bullets did. He wanted to say that he didn't need any help whatsoever. He wanted to scream that he could take care of himself – has been, in fact, taking care of himself since sixteen.

But he was still reeling from the shock he felt then the stupid moron jumped between him and a SWAT officer – _took a bullet for him._

And Grant knew all the reasons that former PJ did it, _precisely_ because he was a PJ and no official discharge from military can change that – Grant just couldn't understand.

"How can you do it?"

McBraid stiffened:

"Sir?"

"Be ready to sacrifice your life for someone else at any second."

"It's my job, sir."

Grant loathed and envied the conviction in his voice.

"Your job? Being ready to throw away your life without regret or hesitation, possibly for a complete stranger?"

"Yes, sir. It's not just a job, not just a duty, it's what I do – it's who I am."

Sudden and overwhelming nausea burned from his chest to the back of his throat. Grant clenched his teeth.

If what people _did_ defined who they _were_ then who was he, Grant?

A liar.

A killer.

A monster.

How did he end up like this? Then did he take a wrong turn? He only wanted to protect Thomas, he wanted to save John – to repay for everything John did for him.

Then did he become someone whom everyone feared?

Answer was simple – when he said "yes" in Plymouth Juvenile Secure Unit all those years ago. It really turned out to be the hardest decision in his life.

And answer was more complex than that – it was also when he felt betrayed by John in the first six months in the middle of nowhere, Wyoming, but still waited for his savior's return. When he spent five years trying to become worthy of John's belief in him. When he tried and failed to shoot Buddy but he was forgiven and given a second chance and he didn't deserve it and he was so grateful and ashamed and desperate to not let John down even though nobody knew how much it cost him when Buddy dropped down and didn't get up.

When he learnt to turn off his emotions because he was weak and couldn't get rid of them and he was terrified that John will find out and will be disappointed in him yet again.

When he pushed and pushed to be the first, the best, the most – to never let down the only person who believed in him and gave him the strength to believe in himself.

When he ignored what SHIELD and Hydra did and pretended it didn't concern him, it wasn't his damn business, it wasn't his responsibility – even though he knew it was wrong. He hasn't managed to unlearn what right and wrong meant – just learnt to close his eyes and cross the line. Time after time after time.

Until he convinced himself it was necessary, if not justifiable or righteous. He lied to everyone about everything but he hasn't learnt to lie to himself – he failed.

He convinced himself that he had to do it – for John. But what gave him the right to decide that this one person's life was worth more than every other life he took or destroyed? What gave him the right to decide that he himself deserved to be saved – at the cost of so many people he hurt because he was paying the debt?

What gave him the right to decide that a killer like John – no more different than Grant himself – deserved to be saved at expense of everyone else?

"How..." His throat wasn't feeling cooperative so he swallowed:

"How do you decide that someone deserves to live? Deserves to live more than you do?"

"I don't decide, sir. I'm not... I can't – and shouldn't – decide who deserves what. I just do what is necessary so that others may live."

"And what if they are killers? What if by saving them you condemn many people to die? What if to save them you do horrible things?"

McBraid shifted and hesitantly asked:

"Are we still talking about me, sir? Because if we do, then you know my answer. I... I did a wrong – for Eva. And I… I regret it but if I had to choose again, I will choose her and do it all over again."

"Why? If it's a wrong thing, why would you do it?"

"Because right things you're ought to do for everyone – total strangers who are nobody to you, even your enemies sometimes. But wrong things, wrong things I will do for my friends. Because they are my friends. Because I care about them, they care about me and they will do the same for me. Even if the price is high."

Even if the price is high.

But what if the price was too high?

What if the one you did anything for will not do the same for you?

ooo

"...another attempt to end in a disaster? There are dozen hostages in there!"

"You suggest to just sit –"

"You just want to show that Hydra is not that big of a threat and you can handle it!"

"There are journalists outside and the whole world heard his declaration! We need to end this fast –"

"The point of negotiation is to stall for time!"

"We do not negotiate with terrorists –"

"Are you kidding? We do not make _concessions_ to terrorists – which _does not mean_ we do not _negotiate_ with them or _talk_ with them – and anyway we _always_ have negotiated despite what politicians as you proclaim!"

Damn, agent Kang finally managed to shut up Christian – if temporarily.

"So you suggest we talk with him – then we don't know what's happening to the hostages? He's a danger to them –"

" _You_ are more dangerous to them, Ms. Hill! If not for your cooperation with another terrorist group – and don't think Stark's lawyers will help you this time –"

"He's a murderer and a psychopath! You're not going to get anything from him!"

"I already did! Or do you think that hostages' lives don't matter as long as you kill all the terrorists?"

Agent Kang two, Hill zero.

"He can't get away with his crimes –"

"You just want to get even with a son of a bitch! You and SHIELD and half of the people here. For him being a mole, for your failure to expose him, for the people he killed or injured. None of you should be here – you're all personally invested in getting revenge and not our objective – which is to save as many hostages as we can! Capturing or killing that bastard is secondary!"

 _Aaand_ in for the kill.

"And you think you can do better?"

"I _think,_ Captain, that you should have allowed us and the police to do our job and not try to turn the situation into gaining an upper hand –"

"How about we try again –"

"We've been trying for hours, Lieutenant, he's ignoring –"

"Let agent Kang try, since he's so _smart_ –"

"I'm not a negotiator, sir –"

"But you've already established some kind of contact –"

Grant removed the headphones. All this shouting exacerbated his growing headache. Although it was amusing in places.

Forty minutes later agent Kang was appointed as a primary negotiator despite his very valid protests of not having experience in negotiating.

"Hydra agents inside, this is FBI agent Matthew Kang. Please respond, I think we can salvage this situation. But I can't help you, if you won't talk to me."

Again with a megaphone. Grant pulled the phone closer and put it on a speaker – with Kang he may be able to get help for agent Tien.

ooo

"And how do you think we can salvage the situation, Matthew?" Grant paused. "You don't mind me calling you "Matthew", right?"

"No, Grant, I don't mind. And we can start with getting you water and food. It's been almost thirty hours, I'm sure you and your people are feeling weary."

 _He and his people_ could handle it, but hostages...

"You mean hostages."

"Them too. How are they?"

"Quiet. I think they're going to spend a fortune on psychologists when this ends. But physically they're fine."

"I'm glad to hear it, Grant. And how are your people?"

Quiet, too. Although mental counseling wasn't covered in Hydra employees' medical insurance.

"How about a deal, Matthew? I release two hostages and you will give me your word that the third person I give up – one of my people – will get medical attention before being locked up in some gitmo."

"Deal." Grant could hear through earphone furious scribbling and rustling – agent Kang's colleagues were not as agreeable. "I promise I will make sure your agent gets help."

"Fifteen minutes. You come in, alone."

Grant ended the call and let himself listen for a minute.

"You had no authority to agree without –"

"You agreed too easily!"

"You made me a negotiator, sir. And I've negotiated the release of two more hostages –"

"He can't go in, sir. It's too risky –"

"If Ward wanted me as a hostage – or dead – he would have done it already yesterday –"

Grant cut off the transmission and left the room.

ooo

"Agent Kan u dverey. U nego korobki, predpolozhitel'no s pitstsey, i butilirovannaya voda." (Agent Kang is at the doors. He has boxes, presumably, with pizza, and bottled water.)

Grant suppressed a sigh – trying to garner some gratitude? How did he outargue his superiors?

"Come in, slowly. Put the boxes down and raise your hands."

After brief inspection of Kang and his "presents" Grant addressed Hydra agents:

"Get water and food. Leave us."

Kang tensed while Hydra agents hesitated for a moment but followed orders.

Grant waited until they were out of earshot and keeping his gun aimed at the center of the FBI agent's vest asked:

"Did you find Walter Gill?"

"No. But what Newark police did find was the signs of forced entry and struggle at his house."

"Then you know what happened at the Sandbox."

Kang narrowed his eyes:

"Maria Hill said that Sandbox was completely overrun by Hydra. Donnie Gill was there but as a prisoner, not as a researcher. His father was almost certainly abducted right before he was supposed to take part in Hydra's yesterday mission. Was he coerced into working for Hydra?"

"You tell me, you're the investigator."

"Why are you telling me all of this?"

Grant shook his head:

"I'm not telling you anything. I can't be held responsible for the conclusions you make."

"Even if they are right conclusions?"

" _Especially_ if they are right conclusions."

Kang wryly smiled:

"You know, you make no sense. The things your brother and former commander say about you are at odds with your actions."

Grant snorted:

"What lovely stories were they telling?"

"I don't believe either of them – they're obviously too biased to be an objective source of information about you."

That surprised Grant.

"So you came here for the second time to, what, form your own opinion?"

"Basically. And get more hostages while you're feeling generous. Thank you for released people by the way. You probably want to know about their condition. Savannah Reilly died in the hospital – blood loss was too severe. But Margaret Eriksson and Steven Harris are out of surgery, their prognoses are good."

Damn, girl looked to be twenty years old. Only twenty.

Donnie will be upset.

"I'm a psychopath, haven't you heard? I don't care if they are alive or not."

" _I_ don't care how much of a monster you may be, as long as you can be reasoned with. And so far you've demonstrated you can."

Grant felt queasy all of a sudden.

"Don't hold too much hope on me surrendering."

Kang shrugged:

"I don't. I only hope you won't drag more people down with you."

"What part of "I'm a psychopath" don't you understand? I don't give a damn –"

"When why have you provided a distraction for your people, alone? Why are you bargaining for your agent's life? Giving two hostages in exchange? Try to be more consistent in your lies. If you're really the best spy SHIELD had since Black Widow, her reputation is exaggerated. Or SHIELD's is."

Grant shut down his building annoyance:

"I have additional condition – you're gonna personally take my agent to the hospital and make sure SHIELD won't abduct her."

Kang tensed.

"Do you want two hostages or not?"

After several seconds he bit out:

"Okay."

Grant shouted:

"Get them here!"

McBraid and Parsons brought the injured woman and two hostages. Hydra agent was pale and had trouble breathing – Grant hoped he hasn't delayed too long to cause her death.

Donnie was already only a step away from blowing up.

ooo

"Is it true?" Donnie barged in the office room and closed the door. "Has my father been kidnapped by Hydra?"

Damn kid managed to eavesdrop _again._

"Donnie –"

He flung his arms and hissed:

"Don't! Just answer!"

Was Donnie ready? Grant wasn't sure. If he pushed too hard, he might undo all the progress he made and turn the kid against himself. But they were hardly in a position to worry about the future, were they now?

"Yes."

Kid froze.

"What for? He's no one important!"

"But he is, Donnie. He's your _father._ "

Donnie flinched.

"Why's that important? And what was that nonsense about coercion? You know what happened at the Sandbox! Nobody made me do anything!"

"Of course, you decided to kill all those people just for the hell of it – which, I admit, might have sounded plausible if you were a cadet of Operations Academy, but you're a scientist –"

"I'm not!"

"You're not? When you don't miss the thrill of discovery, satisfaction of solving problems, finding answers?"

"That... that may have been true in the past, but not anymore."

"Really? You're genius, Donnie, people with potential as you have to be used."

Kid closed the distance between them:

_"I'm tired of being used."_

"Then why are you letting Dr. Whitehall use you?"

Donnie stiffened.

"What? What are you... Dr. Whitehall isn't... Dr. Whitehall?"

"Tell me what happened at the Sandbox."

Donnie stepped back from Grant and shook his head.

"I took the facility for Hydra. Why are you asking? You know that!"

"Why have you done it, Donnie?"

"Because... because I was ordered to do it. You said it yourself –"

"Why have you followed this order?"

"I'm a Hydra agent. I was supposed to –"

"How have you become Hydra?"

Donnie turned away from Grant and leaned on the bookcase.

Grant slowly positioned himself between Donnie and the door.

"Tell me, Donnie. How a good kid like you became a murderer?"

Donnie shuddered and hugged himself.

"I'm not... I'm not... _I didn't want to!_ "

"I believe you, Donnie, I do. But I don't understand – why would you do it? Help me understand, Donnie, please. Why have you done it?"

Donnie's breath caught in a sob but he overcame it and squeezed his head:

"There was a room and people in lab coats... and noise, the noise – it was driving me insane... and I couldn't close my eyes... why couldn't I... they were burning but I didn't blink, couldn't blink... compliance... compliance will be... _no!_ "

Donnie pushed away from the bookcase and run to the door. Grant was faster – he pressed himself to it.

Donnie tried to get to the door anyway and grabbed Grant's arm but the moment he touched Grant he jerked away.

"You, you... Morocco... you promised – compliance will... will be..."

Donnie froze and then stumbled backwards, crushing in the table. He swayed and reached for something to hold onto, sweeping away documents, folders and pen holder. Heavily leaning on the plywood surface he hissed:

" _How could you?!_ "

He lunged at Grant.

Grant let the kid make few blows and then carefully caught his wrists and twisted until Donnie was turned around and restrained.

Donnie trashed and kicked and cried but Grant's hold didn't slip.

Sometime later then sobs subsided, then Donnie dropped to the floor having exhausted himself with tears – and pleas to " _please, not again, not again"_ – he whispered:

"Are you going to do it to me again?"

"No."

"But you did it once, why not repeat it?"

"I didn't care what happened to you in Marrakesh, you were just another mission. But now you're not... you're not another collateral damage. You didn't deserve what was done to you. No one deserves something like that."

"So what, you suddenly got a conscience now? Where was it before, huh? Where was it for years you've worked for people like Whitehall and Bakshi?" Donnie jerked in Grant's grasp. "Let me go!"

Grant immediately released him and the kid jumped away. Grant got up while Donnie was pacing and shaking.

"You... why you... you _activate_ me and then you promise to _help_ me, you _lie_ to me and... and... but then you show up and save me again and act as if you care... as if you're my friend... _How dare you?!_ " Donnie jumped and pushed Grant – he went with the motion and hit the door. Donnie clutched at Grant's neck.

"I can kill you – for what you did. I _should_ kill you. You and all the Hydra agents here." Grant felt cold creeping around his throat. "What's to stop me?"

Grant didn't point out that before the kid could froze him to death – and he knew the exact number of seconds required – he would be able to kill Donnie. Not without a serious frostbite, but at such short distance no superpowers were going to save the kid from one of the best killers in the world.

Instead he said something he wasn't expecting – wasn't planning. It just seemed to be spoken as if by itself, he didn't know what he was saying and where it was heading – Grant guessed it was what sincerity felt like. Terrifying.

"You have every right to. What I've done to you – it's unforgivable. And I can't even say that I did it for John or anyone else. I did it because you were of no consequence to me. Like so many other people I sacrificed – for my survival, for John's, for John's plans, for my plans, for Hydra, for SHIELD. I tried to help you, to make amends – I know it's not enough. At least now you're your own person again."

Donnie was trembling and cold turned into prickling, turned into burning and suddenly a steam formed and puffed out.

"I hate you. You... you're a liar and... But you're here. You've kept your promise. Maybe you're really want to... I won't kill you. No, I won't. But I won't forgive you either."

Donnie stepped back and Grant moved away. Donnie pulled the door open and left barely avoiding crashing into McBraid.

Grant felt numb enough to not even worry about what and how much he could have heard.

"There were screams – agent Parsons sent me to... Is everything alright, sir?"

Grant removed both masks and rubbed his face.

_I hate you._

And the worst part was Grant _knew_ that the moment Jemma and Donnie broke through brainwashing they would hate him. He expected it. He thought he could handle it.

Grant gingerly touched his throat.

"Are you injured, sir?" McBraid moved closer. "Is that a _burn?_ "

_No, please, not again!_

McBraid slapped away Grant's hands.

"Liquid nitrogen, actually."

"Nitro-... Of course, _right now,_ without any proper –" McBraid cut himself off, put on gloves and started loosely wrapping sterile gauze around Grant's neck.

_Please, Grant, help me, please!_

Thomas' pleas were mixing with Donnie's. Grant gritted his teeth.

"How much have you heard?"

"Sir?" McBraid stilled.

"How much?" Grant pressed.

"I... I haven't understood anything, sir."

"No questions?"

"I don't think I should be asking unwanted and dangerous questions, sir." McBraid fastened the dressing and stepped away.

"You should get some sleep, sir."

Grant forcefully threw out Donnie's words out of mind.

" _I_ 'm not the one who caught a bullet - even if it was in the vest."

" _I_ 'm not the one who looks like someone died." McBraid cleared his throat. "I mean... just... You look tired. Sir."

"FBI agent told me the news about injured hostages."

McBraid tensed – he tried to hide it but he was seriously under-trained in the lying department.

"Girl died, woman and man are alive and stable."

McBraid took a deep breath and visibly forced himself to relax.

"You did all you could. The rest is on me."

"You're not a God, sir."

"No, but I'm your commander."

ooo

"Nguyen Thi Tien, twenty six, Los Angeles, former USAF Staff sergeant, cryptologic linguist, bachelor's degree... For God's sake how do people like her end up in Hydra?"

"You think Parsons, former Navy lieutenant, master's in Religious Studies, is any more believable? They're just traitors and terrorists, as simple as that."

"Simple? Are you out of your mind, Captain Walton? We don't know how many more of our former soldiers belong to them. How many sleepers are still among us?"

"You have _no right,_ Ms. Hill. It's _your_ agency failed to notice the threat right under _your_ nose and brought –"

"DoD hasn't noticed damn Nazis among its ranks too –"

"Stop squabbling! You act as children! And you, Ms. Hill, better start talking about Phil Coulson and his crew or I will have you arrested."

Grant doubted that, Stark really had the best lawyers available and sentimental fondness for Maria Hill. Or Coulson's memory. Or Fury's memory.

Whatever. If feds wanted to know about Hydra personnel, Grant wasn't going to help them, but SHIELD...

He had ten SHIELD agents dead and frozen. In addition to the bodies of two Hydra agents and one hostage.

He also had ten _alive_ Hydra agents and Donnie.

Who currently hated him.

Focus, Grant.

Eleven people. Thirteen bodies.

He let himself sigh and said out loud:

"I think I've been over thinking it."

ooo

"How's my agent?"

"In surgery." There was some rustle. "Speaking about Ms. Nguyen – my colleagues are quite baffled as to what someone like her does in Hydra."

Grant span in the chair.

"What do you mean?"

"It's obvious."

"What's obvious?"

There was some muffled curse – Grant resisted the urge to raise the volume in the headphones.

"What an Asian could possibly do in a Nazi cult?"

"Didn't Hitler bestow an "Honorary Arian" title to his Japanese allies?"

"You mean that's why Ms. Nguyen joined Hydra? To have a better standing when Hydra takes over the world?"

"No."

"What?"

"No. I didn't mean anything of the sort. How have you even thought that up?"

"You just said that Hitler employed that tactic."

"And what relevance does Hitler have to agent Tien?"

There was some whispered arguing and scribbling.

"Relevance is in the fact that... Ms. Tien is a member of a Nazi organization."

"No, you're wrong again."

"So what, Hydra is not a Nazi organization?"

"Haven't I said that already?"

"No one believed you."

Like always.

"Seems I have to repeat – Hydra does not have a racist or nationalist agenda –"

"You want world peace. That's what we're supposed to believe."

"It's the truth. But you can ignore me and go for "white supremacy" presumption."

"Presumption? You, John Garrett, Brock Rumlow, Alexander Pierce. Do I need to continue?"

"Jasper Sitwell, many members of Insight crew, I could have listed many more names but I don't feel like sharing. Besides Hydra is not really different from SHIELD in recruitment policy – ask Maria Hill what kind of people SHIELD preferred and you'll get an idea about Hydra agents. Although, who Coulson recruits now I have no idea – but that assault team? They shouldn't have stuck around, it turned out to be a _deadly_ wrong decision."

Grant quite clearly heard Hill say "goddamn bastard" and her being shushed.

"So you confirm that SHIELD agents are dead?"

"Well, agents Leopold Fitz and Lance Hunter – mercenary, really, Coulson? – are alive. The rest of them are dead and I ordered them to be frozen – Coulson, I hope no hard feelings? They were starting to smell, so –"

"Let me talk with that son of a bitch!" Hill's voice was heard even through the loudspeaker. Whispered arguing tried to shut her up.

"Is that former Commander Hill? You're still not arrested? Wow, you must be _really_ good, I don't know why else Stark spends so much money on you." Grant paused. "That came out a bit _wrong,_ didn't it?"

 _That_ was for a "psychopath", _ma'am._

Whispered shouting became muffled and more distant.

"You know, Grant, for a guy who claimed to want "a content of the character to determine someone's worth" you're good at behaving as a misogynist."

Grant swallowed _she started first_ and responded with:

"I'm a spy, it's my job to be able to pretend to be anyone or anything depending on the mission objectives."

"Your answer really did not clarify whether you're a male chauvinist playing a non-chauvinist or vice versa."

"That's kind of the point, Matthew."

"You enjoy this, don't you?"

"What? Domineering, controlling?"

"Playing on people's worst assumptions about you."

Tiny little bell went off in Grant's head – he shouldn't have visited agent Kang in Miami back then. He let something sincere slip during their conversation, it was a mistake.

But it was already done and "what if"'s were never welcome in Grant's vocabulary anyway.

"Who said it was only assumptions?"

"And who said it was _right conclusions?_ "

"SHIELD psychologists – they always have acted a little weird around me." Some of them, at least. Actually, Grant never had access to his psych evaluation forms but several of the psychologists he encountered tried to convince him to leave this line of work. Sadly, he never had repeat appointments with any of them – he wouldn't have minded finding out what he did wrong to bring their attention to himself.

"You mean SHIELD was aware that you had problems and they still kept you around?"

"I'm one of the best they had. Do you really think they would have accepted being denied to continue using me?"

"No, I imagine they wouldn't have. But I have to ask – is Hydra any better?"

No.

"Yes."

"Why? I don't see any difference between them. Maybe I'm missing something?"

"Sometimes you've got to do the wrong things for the right reasons."

"Doing wrong for however noble purpose is still wrong."

Grant couldn't help it – he laughed.

"No offence, but... it must be really nice to live in such simple world. To know what's good, what's not and always see that sharp clear line dividing two."

"Yeah, it must be nice. But I'm not living in that world either."

Grant felt surprised.

"You're not?"

"No, Grant. I doubt, I hesitate, I make mistakes that hurt people and try to live with them."

Grant bit down on his lip, _hard_ , to not let himself react to a wave of emotions which for a moment threatened to overwhelm him.

_Mistakes that hurt people._

"Some mistakes cannot be forgiven."

"Some never will be. But being forgiven is a rare gift."

Gift?

"Gift? Isn't forgiveness _earned?_ "

John always gave Grant a chance to clean up if he messed up – which he tried to avoid at all costs but sometimes couldn't. That was one of the reasons Grant felt so grateful – and undeserving – of John's benevolence. No one else allowed him to fix what he fucked up and forgave him after he proved his earnest regret.

"It's not the equation where forgiveness will be achieved depending on how much you do to make up. I'm not saying that some people won't forgive you if you work hard enough to show your remorse. But whether you will be forgiven or not – this decision is ultimately out of your hands."

But that _made no sense._ Because yes, some things were unforgivable whatever the circumstances. So Grant knew Donnie wasn't gonna forgive him. Ever.

But smaller things, not as much horrible, surely they were rectifiable? The question was only in the price one had to suffer through, in the punishment one had to undergo in order to balance out the crime and satisfy the hurt feelings of the person you wronged.

"What about... wiping your ledger clean? From blood in it?" Grant remembered how after he finally shut up spilling his guts and wasn't called on his weakness by Romanoff, she told him about Barton and Loki, how she broke her friend from brainwashing. She told him about Red Room and that she wants to wipe out red from her ledger even if it's _dripping._

Grant never before thought about trying to make up for his crimes but her idea had certain appeal.

He never shared what she told him – not with anyone. Not even with John. Even if John asked, Grant wouldn't have breathed a word of it – he owed John, but this wasn't his secret. It wasn't even a secret, really. It was more like he was given something precious, intimate. Given without expectation of anything in return, given freely and honestly. And while he might not have understood what it was or what it was called he grasped the value of it just fine.

"Do you really think that... _balancing_ lives taken by lives saved can work? I may be wrong but I always thought that this would mean disrespecting the lives you took even further. You can't undo what's done."

That stung. Grant kept his breathing even.

"And anyway, how many people will you need to save? Do you know how many people you have killed, Grant?"

No, he didn't. He never kept count – he found it unsettling. The whole notion. Like, was he supposed to brag about number, compare it with others or what?

"I don't know. A lot."

"And how many people have you saved?"

John, Skye, her friend, her friend's son, Raina, Jemma, Fitz, Donnie.

And agents from Triskelion – although he preferred not to think about them. It was stupid and rush decision, not to mention a dangerous one but... They weren't field agents or soldiers, they were practically civilians – they were not a _threat._

"Fourteen. Fourteen people."

ooo

**Ten months ago**

Grant would have cursed John if he wasn't a little bit worried about him.

Okay, a lot worried. But annoyed too.

Was it hard to tell Grant that Hydra was going to _come out of the shadows_ – and not in another seventy years, not sometime in the future, but _this month?_ A little warning would have been nice.

A little information about Project Insight wouldn't have hurt either. Right now the only things Grant knew were that it was something _big,_ it involved three helicarriers – right under Potomac, under damn Triskelion itself – and Captain America was going to fuck it up.

Probably. But Grant was going to err on the side of caution. Just in case.

For that reason he was currently sneaking out of Triskelion. He knew the location of the Guest House, the facility in which agent Coulson was brought back from the dead for a week now but he wasn't able to contact John because John was busy setting up the fake Clairvoyant for SHIELD.

Grant didn't know how it went but he wasn't going to risk being captured if Steve Rogers persevered and won. Not now, when he was so close to everything he and John worked for all those years. And fuck Hydra.

But Grant's plans were derailed.

"What do you think you were doing?"

Grant stopped.

"You think you could have done something?"

Grant heard a laugh. It was a specific kind of laugh – one of a tormentor having his victim under complete control.

"Here, you can try. Come on, I'm serious, I'm giving you a chance."

Grant took out a mirror and glanced behind a corner.

Four agents in tactical gear were keeping a watch over an armory and taunting two other agents – Grant was pretty sure he's seen the girl with the piercing in accounting, the guy with her – maybe in Statistics.

One of obviously Hydra agents was offering a gun to the girl, while her friend tried to wipe blood from his face.

"Why are you even trying to fight us? You're not soldiers, kids."

"Because Captain Rogers asked us to." Girl's voice was steady and eyes full of anger and determination. Hydra agents laughed again. Girl's only response was to raise her chin higher.

"Then prepare to pay for it, dearie."

Grant told himself it wasn't his business. If anything, he should be helping _Hydra_ – John's plans for Centipede depended on Hydra's continuing support and resources.

He tried to remind himself he was never loyal to SHIELD, these people were of no consequence to him, they were not his responsibility.

Another bout of laugh added to the heavy feeling in his chest. Girl grabbed the offered gun and pulled the trigger – without taking off the safety.

_They weren't his responsibility._

Ejected magazine dropped with a thud.

_But they were not a threat either._

Grant could have understood if they were specialists, field agents, at least armed. He _might_ have understood if they were executed as SHIELD agents, _enemy,_ to induce fear and show what will happen to those who won't surrender.

_But they were not a threat._

Four agents – they weren't a problem. Problem were all other Hydra agents on the level whom Grant passed and who will come running at the sound of shooting.

If Grant had something to neutralize them simultaneously and without too much noise... like Romanoff's taser disks...

Grant filed that thought for future, checked his weapons and brazenly marched to the armory.

"What are you doing here? Level fifteenth cargo hold is overran with SHIELD!"

Four morons first straightened to attention and _then_ reacted.

"We haven't heard –"

"Switch to the second channel! Were you not paying attention, morons?"

They started to hastily check their radios then one of them paused.

"Who are you?"

For the first time Grant thought that maybe John's unwillingness to reveal Grant's status to anyone except on-a-strict-need-to-know basis was _not_ a good thing after all.

"Agent Ward."

"He's level seven, Jay. From Operations." One of other Hydra agents offered.

"Prove you're one of us!" Jay actually demonstrated there were some brains under his helmet.

Not _very_ much - Grant relocated right between them.

Okay, whose name to use?

"I'm sure agent Sitwell debriefed you –" Grant realized he made a mistake – Hydra agent's arm jerked towards his P-90.

Grant slid a knife from his sleeve in his palm and stuck it into Jay's throat. Grant smashed his elbow in the face of Hydra agent behind him and kicked another in the chest tumbling him in the last one.

Knife cut off the arising screams while the agent with the crushed nose struggled with pain. Grant turned away from the dead and dispatched of the fourth Hydra operative.

Damn, he thought that these agents were Sitwell's recruits. Grant just about regretted not being interested in his fellow moles at the Triskelion.

Wiping the knife Grant addressed SHIELD agents:

"How are you?"

They were pale, shaking and dangerously close to puking but nodded at him. He supposed it must have meant "okay".

He looked out in the corridor – no one. But not for long. Grant took the headset from one of Hydra agents and quickly put on the vest.

"Lillian, right?" Girl nodded while Grant added to his pitiful arsenal – no, really, just a simple "shit is about to hit the fan" from John would have sufficed.

"Stay behind me, do exactly as I say. Understand?"

They hastily nodded and scrambled up.

In half an hour number of strays increased to six, number of crossed off Hydra agents – to a dozen, even though Grant was careful and zealously avoided or shot cameras. He got SHIELD personnel out of Triskelion and nine minutes later one of the Insight helicarriers crashed in it.

Instead of the goodbye Grant took a word from terrified and looking lost like puppies agents that they won't mention seeing him.

In the answer he got an unexpected disproportionally crushing hug courtesy of the girl from accounting. Embarrassingly enough he froze and didn't know how to react - the last genuine hugs he got were left behind – _buried_ – in the childhood.

He awkwardly hugged her back and gave them advice to go straight to the FBI.

He still didn't know why he even cared what will happen to those people in the wake of SHIELD's collapse.

ooo

Grant paused giving agent Kang time to reply if he wanted to. He didn't.

"What, did you expect my answer to be "zero?"

"I expected it to be "one" – the whole thing with John Garrett and the Fridge, if Maria Hill is to be believed."

Wow, she told about that? Grant couldn't not screw that up for her.

"Did she tell you what Victoria Hand did?"

"No. But I have a feeling you're going to tell us."

"Actually, no. You're not gonna believe me anyway. But I'll give you a hint – agent Victoria-"I'm so by-the-book it's legendary"-Hand ordered a murder in direct violation of protocol, laws and, hell, even freaking Geneva Convention. I mean, not that I gave a damn about those things, but she couldn't even dirty her hands herself. So much for such a stellar reputation."

Grant without hesitation shut down rage ignited by the memory of the day which easily could compete with the well for the title of the worst.

"Why do you think we won't believe? Do you have any idea how much of a pain in the ass she became for Departments of Defense and State in the last months?"

Grant became curious.

"Speaking from personal experience?"

"No, second-hand – angry rants of a friend from IO."

"Well, if you ever succeed in dragging her from the Fridge, tell her I'm sorry I didn't have enough time to kill her during our last meeting."

Damn bitch – if Grant hadn't been so short on time and ammo, he would have found out if revenge is truly so sweet as advertised.

"Something tells me she acutely regrets the same – just in regards to not killing _you._ If you don't mind a personal question, Grant..."

What now?

"Sure, Matthew, go ahead."

"Does every one of your former colleagues want to personally murder you?"

Grant supposed that if he managed to get Lance Hunter killed, Bobbi would be cross with him. Probably.

"I'm pretty sure that all of my _current_ colleagues won't mind strangling me too." Aside from Raina – it depended on what she'll gain.

Grant ignored the thought about what Jemma would do if – _when_ – she broke her brainwashing.

"You're serious, aren't you?"

Agent Kang's voice was distinctly unsurprised.

"I think it must be my charming personality."

"I have no doubt in that."

Grant rolled his eyes.

"Hey, I'm a nice guy! Honestly."

"Since you're so nice and we've made several deals already, how about another one?"

_Finally._

"What are you offering? I'm feeling quite good right now."

"Without heat and electricity?"

Okay, heat problem was a little annoying because one of plutonium sources was powering laptop and all bug equipment while the second was keeping hostages warm. Grant and Hydra agents had to come and go, snatching warmth in portions between patrolling.

"It's not the first, not even first _hundredth_ time I was in even worse conditions."

"And hostages?"

"No, don't turn it on me. _I_ haven't decided to freeze them."

"Sir, we _have_ to turn heating on –"

"I know. But the bastard can't start to think he –"

"We'll just make him think we're doing him a favor –"

Grant suppressed a desire to gleefully rub his hands and returned his attention to Kang.

"...those bodies can't be a pleasant neighbors, don't you think?"

"What, you want bodies in exchange for returning heating?"

"Yes."

"I want electricity, too."

"I thought you have been in much worse conditions."

"And I thought you wanted bodies – to run the faces through the database."

"I'm afraid I need to discuss it with my boss."

"And I'm afraid the deal is off."

Furious rustling became more furious.

"Poor hostages – so many hours in cold freezing frosty –"

"Heating with electricity in exchange for dead bodies and six hostages."

"Heating and electricity – for dead bodies."

"Five hostages."

"Dead bodies of _only_ SHIELD agents."

" _Four_ hostages."

" _Three_ hostages."

"Deal."

Grant tuned out whispered screeching.

"Thirty minutes. Coroner's car at the entrance. You and a driver. Don't do anything stupid."

Time to see how preparations were going.

ooo

"So, Leo, do you understand what you need to do?"

Fitz scorched Grant with a glare.

"Y-yes."

"And you?"

Annoying asshole clenched his teeth, winced due to swelling bruise on the entire left side of his jaw and lisped:

"Yes-s."

Grant made a note to thank McBraid for the sight.

"Awesome." Grant nodded in the direction of Parsons who was holding a remote controller. "Remember what will happen if you do something – _anything_ – not according to instructions."

They both gritted their teeth. Grant hoped dental care was included in SHIELD's insurance policy.

ooo

"Protect Donnie – and if you decide to misinterpret your orders again, I'll cut your heart out. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir." Grant internally sighed with relief.

A little early.

"If I may ask for a favor, sir – please, not with a spoon, sir –"

Grant fumbled on the table – no, not this, too light, not this one either, oh, _yes_ – and threw a stapler at McBraid. At least the freaking joker didn't dare to move out of the way and it bumped him in the head.

_"Dismissed."_

"Sir, yes, sir."

Damn, if Grant got out of this alive, the little shit was gonna positively _miss_ his drill sergeant.

ooo

"Donnie, we need to talk." The kid stiffened for a moment and then went back to dismantling equipment.

Grant decided against closing the door in case it spooked the kid and just spoke in low tone:

"You've already voiced your thoughts about me, I'm not here to try to change your mind. I just want to help." Grant slowly approached the table and put taser disks on it.

"Then you make it to the safe house, you'll find documents and money under floorboards of the second biggest room. It will be best if you don't leave the country, prepared passport won't hold up considering that the FBI knows about you." Grant took a deep breath.

"Your father is at the safe house."

Donnie whirled around.

"Hydra did not abduct him, they had no reason to. It was me."

Donnie forcefully inhaled several times and crossed his arms:

"What for?"

"I wanted you to meet – I thought it might help you to break programming."

Donnie threw his hands up and at the last second lowered his voice to a whisper:

"Did you have to _kidnap_ him?!"

"You weren't allowed out of HQ, what other opportunity could I have used?"

Donnie hissed:

" _Fine._ But what makes you think I'm gonna run away?"

_What?_

"Because Hydra brainwashed you." Grant spoke slowly hoping he misheard.

"Jemma, too." Grant's heart lurched. "Tell me I'm not right."

"Well, yes, but –"

"You're gonna do something. I want in."

Grant gritted his teeth.

"If you return, you're risk being... worked on again."

"Then you'll teach me how to lie to _him._ "

"Are you insane?" Now it was Grant's turn to hiss.

" _I_ rarely dare to deceive _him_ – and by " _deceive"_ I mean "insert a few misinterpretations among total truthfulness."

Donnie stubbornly set his shoulders:

"Seeing as you're still alive, you must be good at it."

"Donnie –"

"No, you promised to help me – so _help._ "

Grant's breath caught.

"I thought you _hated_ me."

"Just because I hate you, I haven't become suddenly blind – however much I want to, I won't be ruled by my emotions. I can't allow myself to have such luxury." Donnie crossed his arms and stepped closer. "You're trying to help Jemma, like you've tried with me. And while it doesn't cancel what you've done, I'm not stupid enough to refuse your help. I can't afford that either. So we're gonna work together – for Jemma's sake. After it – we're done."

Donnie turned away.

Grant forced himself to relax and even out his breathing. He never thought –

"Thank you."

He didn't get an answer but then he didn't really need it – he already got more than he deserved. More than he ever thought he would get.

An opportunity to prove he really was only trying to help. As best as he could – as he knew how.

ooo

"Trupovozka pod"yekhala. Agent Kan i voditel' u vkhoda." ("Coroner's car arrived. Agent Kang and driver are at the entrance.")

Lights came on in the lobby. Grant opened the door and let agent Kang with a driver in.

"Open the car's back door. Where are body bags?"

Driver returned to the car and came back with a load of black bags.

Two Hydra agents disappeared inside the bank with them.

"Hostages will load the bodies. You better not be trying anything."

"We're not."

Grant nodded to terrified hostages and they started moving zipped bodies out of one of the office rooms in the van. All the while another two agents were keeping Kang and his colleague under aim.

One of the bodies almost got dropped. Grant gritted his teeth but it worked out. The hostages stiffened and one of them stuttered:

"It's just very cold."

Grant nodded to them to continue – that was the whole point.

Finally all the bags were loaded and Grant said to agent Kang:

"They're all yours." He nodded and guided the hostages out.

Part one – successful.

ooo

Grant poured every single room, floor, furniture and surface with bleach. He filled several water bottles with dry ice prepared by Donnie and retreated to the back exit.

Lester's SWAT uniform looked a little too big on Fitz but in Sutton's he would have drowned. As a matter of fact it was a little short for Grant's height, but too loose for him. The annoying asshole was fabulous in plaid shirt two sizes bigger and tight jeans. Grant hoped he felt as uncomfortable as he looked.

"Are you ready to be free?"

"The second we're out of here –"

"Do you remember about C4? And poor hostages?"

"The second we're far, very far away from here." Whatever kept his wounded pride happy.

Grant threw a respirator to Fitz and put one on himself.

Time to add some vinegar.

ooo

After dry ice bombs detonated, SWAT stormed the bank and got welcomed by chlorine vapors, smoke bombs, office-made petards and _another_ batch of dry ice bombs.

In the created chaos Grant dragged injured "buddy" and injured "hostage" out and in the ambulance.

Paramedics were not glad to be taken hostage but then Grant wasn't glad to take hostages either. He had enough for a whole year.

He tied SHIELD agents and a paramedic leaving the driver to get the car out of the block.

His phone vibrated.

"Krolik i Tigra vytashchili nashikh." (Rabbit and Tigger got ours out.)

Before Grant typed a response Reznikoff called. Feeling apprehension Grant answered.

"Vasilisa i Zolushka priblizhayutsya k vam." (Vasilisa and Cinderella are going to you.)

"Stop the car! Now!" Voices outside. The car stopped.

Fuck. They just had to return from the wild-goose chase Grant sent them to.

The Avengers.

"Come out!"

"Prikroy Snegurenka i Ru." (Cover Sneguronok and Roo.)

"A vy?" (And you?)

"Ya razberus'." (I'll deal.)

"S Mstitelyami? Oni porubyat vas na melkiy farsh." (With Avengers? They'll chop you to forcemeat.)

"Ne vmeshivaysya. Eto prikaz." (Do not interfere. That's an order.)

"Eto samoubiystvo." (It's a suicide.)

"Ya yasno –" (I've clearly –)

"Ya idu, ser." (I'm coming, sir.)

Damn. Grant just about had it with insubordination. They were lucky that Grant wasn't going to live through the upcoming fight but –

If he was going down, he was going to make it hard.

"Grant Ward. Surrender." Familiar voice.

Grant shouted:

"Don't get me wrong, but I hoped we'll never meet again!"

"Why's that? Afraid I'm pissed?"

"No. I never wanted to deceive you, believe it or not. So I didn't want to see you being disappointed in me."

"I'm not disappointed. I'm sad, silly boy."

"I remember asking you not to call me that, Natalia Alianovna."

"And I remember asking you to call me "Natasha."

Grant licked his suddenly dried lips.

"I think that considering the circumstances I have lost that privilege."

"I think you're right."

"Before we begin, I want you to know – it wasn't personal."

"Sure feels that way."

Okay. Grant didn't expect that she would believe him. He just really hoped that she would.

If there was a person whom Grant respected almost as much as John, it was her.

First, it was jealousy. "Romanoff this, Romanoff that." John just couldn't shut up. So Grant tried his best – but his best was always second to hers. Second, came resentment. Then he heard about her from other agents who met her and interacted with her. They had only highest opinion of her skills. And third, was acceptance. He wasn't going to compare to her, okay, then he was going to become the best among all others, mere mortals.

And then he actually met her himself. And she wasn't this god-like perfection John painted her to be. She was smart, efficient, ruthless, every bit deserving of her legendary status. But she was also capable of kindness, compassion. She wasn't as arrogant or self-centered as Grant half-hoped she would be ~~(because it would have given Grant an excuse to resent her, for real, not just for not being able to measure up to her level in John's eyes.)~~ – no, she was a person. With faults, flaws and ghosts _(dripping red, ghosts, so many ghosts)_.

She was just a human.

And for the first time ever Grant thought that maybe John is not the only one who could understand him ~~(maybe John was mistaken when he said that everyone else will judge and condemn him – _call him a monster_ – maybe, just maybe someone will see him, like Barton saw her, maybe, just maybe someone else aside from John will make that different call, maybe, just maybe~~ … Hydra came out of the shadows and Grant _cut out_ those wishful thoughts ~~(hopes, dreams)~~.

"I'm coming out. I have hostages with me." Grant knocked out paramedics, pulled garrote over the annoying assholes' neck and cutting Fitz's bonds said to him:

"One extra movement and I'll kill him faster than your precious Avengers can react. Understood?"

Fitz set his jaw and nodded.

"Good. Now open the door and keep on my left."

ooo

Romanoff stood seven feet away from the ambulance car. Next to her was Rogers.

Grant tightened the garrote.

"Hi, Cap. Fancy meeting you here. I thought you would be busy looking for your number one fan, but I guess, he's just not that important to you."

Expression on Rogers' face obviously said that Captain did not appreciate Grant's humor.

"We were looking for Coulson then we heard about Hydra taking hostages and barricading themselves a few blocks away from UN headquarters. And only a two thousand feet away from Stark Tower."

"Well, to be fair, I wasn't planning on either of these things happening. But SHIELD's so noisy. Keeps getting involved in things they have no business being involved."

"Fighting Hydra is their business."

"Um, didn't you take down SHIELD because it was corrupt beyond imagination? Now you're saying that an organization conducting its operations without any governmental approval whatsoever has right to do so?"

"If Phil Coulson is heading it, then yes."

Damn, those idealistic heroes.

"Why? Because he's such a good man?"

"Yes, he is."

"Oh, Rogers, being a good man is not the same as being a good agent or a good director."

"Director Fury's SHIELD made so many mistakes _exactly_ because he put being a good director higher than being a good man."

"Nick Fury was a _terrific_ director, _exactly_ because he knew the price of being in command. In particular, of being in command of the most powerful intelligence agency in the world."

"And where did that lead him? Not seeing Hydra right among his ranks and almost giving them world domination."

"Agent Hunter would appreciate if you moved back, Natalia Alianovna." Grant tightened the wire a bit more. Romanoff shrugged and stepped back:

"For the record, Ward, Coulson _is_ a good agent."

"For God's sake, I thought you of all people would understand – he's not a good man or agent or whatever, he's an _idealist._ And for years SHIELD and Fury indulged him and did nothing to disavow him from this notion."

"And how's that a bad thing? Afraid that Hydra won't be able to bring him down?"

"No, Captain, I am just afraid. Because if there's something worse than an idealist, it's an idealist with power. Like you."

"Me?" Huh, he was genuinely puzzled.

"Do you even know how much power do you have over this country? Do you have _any idea_ how many people will die without a second of hesitation if you tell them it's the right thing to do? Do you even understand how much responsibility is on you? Because you're not a man, Rogers, you're a symbol, beacon of hope, example to follow. And people _will_ follow, if you only ask. So do all those naïve morons a favor and don't let them down, don't let their sacrifice be in vain."

"What are you –"

Grant stabbed SHIELD agent in the side – all way to the liver and threw him at Rogers. The knife and attached petard flew at Romanoff while he grabbed Fitz and run.

They run through an alley then Grant spotted a warehouse. The less their fight will be in the open, the better.

He dragged Fitz inside and shot all cameras then Romanoff attacked from the side. Grant shielded himself with Fitz and pressed a gun to his head.

Romanoff made a show of holding her hands up.

"I'm not going to kill you, believe it or not."

"Really?"

"Yes, I'm going to bring you in alive."

Fuck. Grant didn't give a damn about feds or police, but if Romanoff captured him, she will gift him to Coulson. Grant still had Jemma to save and Skye to help. He _promised._ And no Black Widow was gonna make him a liar then he never intended it this time.

"Trying to impress Coulson to get back in his good graces? Oh, _wait,_ it's the other way around. It's _him_ who lied about his resurrection, put you through his funeral, put you through so much grief. Aren't you friends? Man, makes me glad I don't have any."

"That's not true."

"What?"

"The last one. You want friends. Desperately want them. Want someone to tell you that you're not a monster. That you can be loved. That you're not _unlovable._ "

Grant ruthlessly put down every emotion brought on by her words. He shouldn't forget her main weapon is emotional manipulation. There's no one better at that.

"I thought you weren't so lost that you would follow John blindly. But you're going to follow him until the end, aren't you? It's sad. It truly is. You think all this death and blood and fear will fill that empty void in you? You think that making the whole world suffer will ease the pain you yourself have suffered?"

No. Grant had to admit with total disbelief that the one person who seemed to get him was _Raina_ of all people. He struggled to take a breath through pain that crushed his ribcage. Romanoff made a wrong conclusion about him. And while it hurt, it did so for different reasons than she thought.

 _Because she was wrong about him._ Grant used to hope that then they'll meet again she will be disappointed in him and angry, yes, because he deceived her and used her benevolence to get Hill off his case but… But she will ask him what was the reason and he will tell her he did it because he was trying to save John. And she wouldn't have forgiven him, but he wasn't asking for forgiveness, he hoped she would understand – _she owed a debt too_ – and that was all he ever wished for. For someone to understand. For someone to say, yes, the things you did are unforgivable and monstrous but the reason you did it, all of it, _is not._

Because wasn't love supposed to be the most important thing in the world? The _only_ important thing in the world?

And he loved. God help him he loved John, the father he wished he had. The father he wished loved him back.

Why was it so monstrous to wish that?

"I don't want to hurt you, Ward. Just surrender, please. I promise, you will be given a fair trial, you won't be locked up in some SHIELD basement."

Grant wanted to believe her. He did. But how could he trust her when she completely misunderstood what motivated him?

But he didn't want to hurt her too. He unlocked P-90 from his vest and sent it scattering on the floor. Along with a gun.

He threw Fitz at Romanoff, she leaned away and he jumped at the box on the right, pushed up and turned in the air – gun went flying from her hand and he kicked her in the face.

She stumbled back while he rotated to land on his right leg. She rushed him and aimed a kick at his ribs. He twisted out of the way, caught her leg and drove his elbow in her thigh above the knee. She attacked with a left hook to the jaw and he released her leg, reeled back.

She advanced again, he jumped away and tried to hit her. She blocked and captured his arm, turned to his back, sneaked an arm around his neck and threw him over his head. He crushed on his spine, hit his head on the floor and had to roll away from her boots' strikes. He fumbled for a knife, got it out and threw at her. She stepped to the side and he jumped up. He attacked, she blocked until she hit back and got him under ribs.

Pain washed over him hot and sharp. He tried to put a distance between them, wasn't fast enough and she twisted his arm against his back. He kicked at her, missed, rushed her backwards and she turned his arm. Pain shot through his shoulder, doubled with throbbing from recent injury to the _same_ shoulder and he had to stop.

"Give up, Ward. Don't make me hurt you."

He slowly exhaled – she didn't know what qualified as "being hurt" in his book – and pushed against her. His arm went out of the socket, white hot stabs of agony flooded his nerves, black spots disrupted his vision and he turned around with a blow aimed for her head. His fist connected with her nose and cartilages cracked under the applied force. She reeled back, aborted her hand's movement to her face and whirled in the air faster than he was able to react.

She twirled around him and jammed her bracelets in his neck. Hundred thousand volts shocked him in the first second while he stumbled backwards and crushed her in the wall. Counteracting signals hijacked his nervous system and pain stretched seconds to eternity as he trashed trying to shake her off. Finally he stumbled on something and went down to the floor. She didn't end electrical torment and he forced down his incoming panic attack –

_You know what's best. What's best is you comply. Compliance –_

He dropped his mental defense against pain and let it wash over him in waves effectively shutting off the flashbacks. Black spots were dominating his view. She was doing the same thing she did at their previous fight – holding him under until he blacked out. How long it was already? Ten seconds, twenty, thirty?

Then he felt as something was placed around his neck and pain stopped for a moment. It was for a fraction of a second and pain was back before he could have done something more than roll.

He rolled right on his dislocated arm and a new wave of agony clashed with a previous one almost resulting in him blacking out.

He could only watch as Romanoff stepped away from him and pulled out handcuffs.

Damn.

She leaned to him to put bracelets on when she was kicked away. A newcomer attacked with unrelenting barrage of strikes and forced Romanoff from him. A six feet tall woman with a black ski mask on her face – Reznikoff.

Grant got overwhelmed with rage that almost numbed the pain – what did she think she was doing?! _He_ got his ass kicked by the Black Widow, what did _she_ hope to accomplish?

Romanoff kicked Hydra agent in the stomach, tripped her and threw over. Reznikoff flew in the shelves head first but tried to stand and after second attempt dragged herself up. She leaned on the stillage and pushed away from it. Romanoff blocked her hit, captured her arm near the elbow, blocked her kick, grabbed her arm with another hand closer to the body and _pressed._ Hydra agent fall on her knees with a scream as her arm was broken. Romanoff left her and turned back to Grant picking up the handcuffs where she dropped them.

Grant was still not able to control his own body due to ongoing current – couldn't Reznikoff jumped in the fight after Romanoff put handcuffs on him _and turned the stun device off?_

Grant kicked at Romanoff and missed then she jumped and rolled away from the place where Reznikoff landed from a high kick.

"We're not done yet, _swallow._ "

Grant gritted his teeth – she was gonna die unless _he fucking moved his body._

He jerked to the right, ignored burning shoulder, to the left, to the right, left, right, rolled through dislocated joint and tripped Romanoff. She stumbled and the knife in her hand cut through Reznikoff's jacket instead of her throat.

In the next moment Romanoff ducked and rolled away from bullets. She got up, twisted away from three rectangular projectiles which cracked upon impact with the surface of the floor and sent ice shards skatte –

Wait, ice?

Ice puffed out with a white cloud and freed taser disks detonated behind Romanoff's spine.

Grant was barely clinging to stay conscious then Donnie rushed to him and tore the stun necklace from him.

Grant immediately tried to stand, fell and got up with Donnie's help. His neck was burning, his shoulder was on fire, McBraid was dragging Reznikoff up, Grant clutched at Donnie's arm trying to shake off dizziness and looked around searching for Fitz when he noticed a movement.

"Down!" He twisted himself before Donnie and dropped him on the floor. Two shots knocked him with a force of a sledgehammer and for a whole second he was immobile – his body was exhausted, hurt and obviously decided it had enough for today. But Grant had no patience to deal with his weaknesses now – and no right to fail.

He bit his cheek from the inside until he tasted blood. Fresh and sharp – but most importantly _different_ – pain broke the haze of pulsing constant ache. He rolled away from Donnie and up.

McBraid had disarmed Hill – damn, she was _not_ welcome – but currently was in a hammerlock. Grant run to them and kicked her in the back – she backed a step and McBraid twisted out of her reach. Grant tried to hit her, she ducked, ducked McBraid's hit, punched him in the solar plexus, jabbed Grant in the shoulder – yes, _that_ one – and tripped McBraid.

Grant barely avoided Hydra agent as he fell on the floor. Hill jumped over him, flipped over and rushed Grant. He ducked, ducked, missed, barely blocked her strike, sneaked his arm under hers and headbutted her. Her head snapped back but she used the hand Grant captured – and still held – to launch herself and drove her knee into him. Grant twisted at the last moment and her blow only glanced off his thigh.

Suddenly she lost her balance – McBraid caught her foot and Grant returned her move – kneed her in the groin. She doubled over and Grant released her arm to free his own but she jabbed him in the ribs and caught his bruised ones. Grant put a distance between them and tried to catch his breath while McBraid got a kick in the face which dropped him back on the floor.

Grant attacked but she turned half-way and he blocked her arm, ducked under, came up behind and caught her in a chokehold. She drove her elbow in his chest, he struggled to hold her but McBraid picked himself up and hit her in the stomach once, twice.

Grant kept choking her until she stopped wriggling. Grant released her and lowered to the floor. Checking her pulse he got up.

"Handcuff her."

Grant turned to Donnie – he was pressed in the corner by Reznikoff who found somewhere a gun.

Where was Fitz?

"Nobody moves! Hands up! Up!" Two warehouse guards run out in the open. Grant raised his left hand while Reznikoff and McBraid aimed guns at guards.

"Drop your weapons! –"

"Hands! Hands there we can see them! –"

Grant slowly rolled his shoulders, gritted his teeth riding the pain and prepared to move then two taser disks rolled up to the guards from behind the shelves and detonated.

Grant gestured for McBraid to cover him, picked his gun from under a rack and they rounded the corner.

Fitz raised his hands still half lying on the floor.

"I-I d-didn't m-mean to!"

Grant lowered his weapon and dragged Fitz up.

"Aww, Leo, you do like me after all. I knew that you do –"

"F-fuck off and d-die, W-Ward."

"I like you too, Leo."

ooo

They made it out of the warehouse and on the streets. The tac vests and other suspicious details were dropped in trash cans along the way with exception of weapons. McBraid was covering Donnie, Reznikoff was stiffly pressing her broken arm to her body and Grant was holding Fitz by his elbow and ignoring his own arm. Their injuries will have to wait.

But questions – not necessarily.

"Just what the fuck were you thinking? I ordered you to _not_ intervene."

Reznikoff sniffed, wiped her face with the sleeve of her jacket and succeeded only in smearing blood all over.

"I don't like stupid orders, _sir._ "

Fitz stumbled in Grant's hold. Grant jerked him up and released, then dug out handkerchief and offered it to Reznikoff. She mumbled thanks and he turned to the kid.

"What's _your_ excuse?"

Donnie scowled:

"She told us what was happening – contrary to what you might expect, I don't actually want you dead. Suffering – maybe, dead – not."

Paradoxically enough Donnie's words loosened a knot Grant wasn't aware was stretched in him.

Grant noticed how Reznikoff incredulously glanced from Donnie to Grant and looked at McBraid who shrugged in answer.

"And what about you?"

McBraid stilled.

"Donnie ran to help you, sir, you ordered me to protect him – so I ran after him."

Grant exasperatedly sighed. McBraid winced.

"You promised, sir, not to use a spoon –"

"No, actually, I haven't."

McBraid clutched Donnie's shoulder a little tighter.

"Y-you're _c-crazy._ " Fitz managed an impressive mix of disgust, fury and morbid curiosity.

Grant suppressed a laugh.

"We'll split up – you're three together, I'm with Leo. Dump weapons –"

Grant stopped walking. TV screen in the shop front displayed his photo from SHIELD files.

"Scratch that. We stay together, keep weapons. Be on alert."

Damn, damn – _damnit._

Every goddamn psycho in the world whom he deceived, lied to and slighted will come crawling from their shit holes hungry for retribution.

"W-what? W-why? W-why t-they –"

Grant shut down his apprehension and paid attention to another photographs. Coulson, May, Fitz, Hunter, Jemma, Donnie – oh, yes, _of course._

"W-why are t-they s-saying t-that I-I... I-I-m _n-not a t-terrorist!_ _Y-you_ t-took m-me h-hostage! _Y-you_ are t-the v-villain, n-not us! W-we're t-trying t-to f-free t-the w-world f-from y-you –"

"Oh, _Leo._ Didn't you know that one man's freedom fighter is another man's terrorist?"

Fitz winced and eyed Grant as if he was something dirty and daring to disturb his clean and simple view.

"Y-you t-think y-you're f-funny, d-don't y-you?"

Grant felt affronted.

"I'm not just funny, I'm a _lot_ of fun."

Damn.

"I mean not in _that_ sense. Although I am a lot of fun in _that_ sense, too – but that's not what I was trying to say –"

Grant abruptly shut his mouth.

That was unexpected. It never happened to him before. It was _embarrassing._ And ridiculous. And –

Snicker escaped Reznikoff. She startled and with a horrified expression pressed a hand to her mouth but snickers with distinct edge to them still made it through. Moment later Donnie and McBraid burst with laughter and Grant joined them.

They were laughing and people were glancing at them and it was attention grabbing and dangerous and idiotic and it sounded more hysterical than funny but it was the freest Grant felt in a long while.

"Y-you are c-crazy. T-the w-whole b-bloody l-lot of y-you."

That only made them laugh louder.


End file.
